


Dancing Along a Fine Line

by MisfitWriter



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisfitWriter/pseuds/MisfitWriter
Summary: Collection of unrelated one-shots, mostly revolving around Rosvolio.  Some posts will involve some of our other favorites as well.  AU's, alternate/added scenes, etc...please feel free to send prompts my way!





	1. The Brideprice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosaline works up the courage to ask her betrothed a question following the attack at the betrothal ceremony.

After the incident in the town square, Rosaline found herself paying closer attention to her betrothed.  He’d surprised her more than once before they parted ways that day, and she was unsure how to process these glimpses at another side of Benvolio Montague she’d not expected to see.  She thought back to the promise she made to Livia about her brideprice.

“What is it, Capulet?”  She looked up in surprise, Benvolio watching her from across the table.  She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out.  Her fiance chuckled at her and shook his head.  “As tense as the course of our relationship may have been thus far, you have never before been nervous around me.  What is causing you distress?” 

Rosaline stared at him for a moment, half a smirk on her face.  “I have not yet decided how I feel about your ability to read me like a book, Montague.”  Instead of responding, Benvolio simply raised a bemused brow at her.  With a heavy sigh, she gathered her courage.  “I have a...request…”  Still he kept quiet, infuriating in his patience.  Rosaline dropped her gaze, afraid of the possibility she’d misjudged him.  “For Livia-”

“Yes.”

_ Yes? _ Blinking up at him, she saw a miniscule grin tugging at his lips.  “I...but I have not made the request.”

“Oh, forgive me, Capulet.  Continue.”  He crossed his arms over his chest expectantly, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Would you consider...paying my uncle my sister’s brideprice as well as mine?”  As she spoke, her confidence dissipated and her chin dropped to her chest in shame.  

A shadow crossed over her face, and a finger hooked under her jaw to draw it back up towards him.  She found herself entranced by his steady, tender gaze, mere inches away.  “ _ Yes _ , Capulet.  My answer is still yes.”

“Why?” she breathed, and for once found herself grateful that he could read her so well.

“You gave up the chance to escape, to be free of all of this nonsense and have the life you truly wanted...the only thing that would stop you is your sister.  You condemned yourself to a life that you never asked for, to protect Livia.  Anything that I can do to ease your burden, including providing for your sister, I shall.  You have my word, it is done.”  

Rosaline searched his face for any indication of deception.  When she found none, she smothered a relieved sob and threw her arms around his neck.  Benvolio chuckled, surprised by her strong reaction, and straightened so that they were both standing.  “Thank you, Montague.”

“It is the least that I can do.”  He drew back and studied for a moment.  “You were sincerely concerned for Livia’s safety if I’d said no.”

Rosaline hesitated, but realized she had no desire to hide anything from him anymore.  “I was.”  She sat back down on the bench, and Benvolio settled down beside her.  “My aunt and uncle...they took us in out of guilt or obligation after our parents passed.  Lord Capulet was indifferent to our presence, but Lady Capulet could not stand to look at us and see glimpses of the man she’d loved.”  She smirked at him when he gave a soft huff of surprise.  “Power was more important to her than love, and it haunted her.  So she did the best thing she could without appearing a hateful wench to the rest of Verona: she made us servants in her house.  It allowed her to control us...treat us however she wished, without repercussion.”

“She has abused you,” he growled, fists clenched atop his knees.  

Rosaline gave a humorless smile and stared at her hands resting in her lap.  “Juliet was able to placate her easily enough...when she was alive.  If her wrath is directed at me, Livia is safe.  I worry that without me to bear it, she will turn her attention to the only person left.”  

A warm hand settled over hers, and Benvolio’s face was earnest and sincere.  “Livia will not be at her mercy for a moment.  When we are wed and have moved away from our families, she will come with us.”

“Again I must thank you, milord.”  She turned curious eyes to her fiance, an unpleasant thought crossing her mind.  “I am not the only one suffering the wrath of bitter guardians.”

Benvolio looked as though he would deny it at first, but her raised eyebrow had him relenting.  “Romeo tried to dissuade his father many times in the years after my parents died, as did Mercutio from time to time...but they learned quickly that it only made the situation worse.  I cannot say for sure why my uncle hated me from my childhood...but now he blames me for surviving when both Mercutio and Romeo did not.”

Rosaline turned her hand over under his, and twined their fingers together.  They took a moment to simply look at one another, processing the information they’d shared with one another and the implications thereof.  The more she learned about the man beside her, the more she realized that they had in common, and the less she was able to dislike him.  He understood her in a way no one else had seemed able to do, and while she had a long way to go before she would ever admit it, but perhaps marriage to him would not be a terrible thing.  If he was willing to agree to anything she asked simply because it involved her sister, and he understood just how much that meant to Rosaline...she could take anything else the union might bring.

“Tell me about your history with the Prince?” he requested softly.  She’d been waiting for the question, expecting it to be a demand for information in the midst of a fight rather than out of genuine desire to better understand his betrothed.  Oh, how far they’d come.  He traced the back of her hand with light fingertips.

“He was my first love,” she murmured.  Benvolio’s fingers twitched in hers, and she couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics.  “Before my father was murdered, we would sneak away to be together.  Right after my father’s death, Escalus went to Venice without a word.  I was devastated, but in light of everything that came after, it was just one more piece of the world that had slipped through my fingers.  When he came back, everything happened so fast...and then the night of his order for our betrothal happened.  I was so sure that he would change his mind after he followed me...and then again the night of the Feast.  But…” She took a shaky breath, and Benvolio pressed a kiss to her knuckles.  “He manipulated me.  He threatened to paint me a harlot to all of Verona...ruin both my life and my sister’s, if I did not comply with his command.”

She fell silent, finally allowing the hurt to wash over her.  She’d held on to her anger so long, using it to fuel her hatred toward the Montague she’d been forced to marry, that she’d never let herself feel the pain of her first love’s betrayal.  As she seemed to be losing her ability to hold onto that hatred...

“It is not a  _ man _ who tries to break the spirit of an independent, strong, beautiful woman,” Benvolio growled.  He abruptly left his seat, and Rosaline was shocked when he knelt before her, taking both of her hands in his.  “Lady Rosaline, I may be powerless to stop them from forcing your hand in this marriage...but this vow I  _ can _ make: you need  _ never _ fear that control from me.  I swear to you that I will never impose my will upon you or your sister, and I will not allow the Prince or your family to try to do so once we are wed.”

His promise stole her breath away, and she was surprised to realize she had no doubt that he was sincere.  “Thank you, Signor Montague. I...I cannot express what this means to me.”

Benvolio returned himself to the seat beside her.  “Strange, is it not?” 

When she turned to him, he was giving her a sidelong glance complete with amused smirk. “What?” she asked, fighting to smother her own smile.

“How easy it is for us to get along now that we have ceased pretending to hate one another.”

“I don’t know who was  _ pretending… _ do you forget that you called me ‘harpy’?”

He dropped his eyes with a self-deprecating nod. “I was...upset...and I was wrong.  Just as I was wrong to suggest that you were to blame for the tragedies of late.  Forgive me.”

“No, you were simply defending yourself after I made the accusation first.”  She shook her head solemnly.  “Grief makes us lash out at those around us, often those who are innocent.  It did not help that we were then forced into the middle of this God-forsaken feud against our wills.”

They both looked back up at each other at the same time, and smiled.  Rosaline felt an indescribable sense of relief, knowing that she had a confidante, a partner, a  _ friend _ even in the midst of the life into which they’d been forced.


	2. Migraine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern!AU. Rosaline stays back from a concert with the gang to clean the house for her *favorite* Aunt's visit the same evening. When Benvolio comes to try to change her mind, he realizes that she's in pain. Good thing he's done his research...

Rosaline Capulet fought back a moan as her stomach rolled.  She sat back on her heels for a moment, setting down her duster and pressing the her hands against her eyes.  As much as she appreciated the peace and quiet of having her sister and best friend out for the day, the fact that they would have company that evening meant, migraine or not, she’d be spending the better part of the afternoon cleaning.  Of course, the fact that she  _ had _ a migraine meant that she was moving much slower than usual.  She’d already had to rush to the bathroom once so far, and didn’t think she was far from a second trip.  With a few slow, steady breaths, she felt confident enough to finish dusting.

A knock at the door distracted her, and she called for the person to enter.  She looked up briefly, and returned to her work.  She couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed or grateful for her visitor.  “To what do I owe the pleasure, Montague?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Benvolio lean against the doorway into the living room and cross his arms.  “Everyone else is pre-gaming at the beach...and you are  _ cleaning _ .”

Lately, their banter had been surprisingly enjoyable...borderline flirting most days, but today she couldn’t bring herself to engage.  “Babysitting is  _ not _ my idea of fun on a  _ good  _ day,” she muttered.

“True,” Ben conceded with a smirk.  “And it’s pretty unfair of you to abandon me to wrangle the  _ kids _ all on my own.  You know how they get when you give them alcohol and set them loose on a crowd.  Not a good day, huh?” She refused to look at him, unwilling to admit weakness. He was silent for a moment, his gaze practically burning into her. “You have a migraine.”

Finally she looked over her shoulder to see the concern in his eyes.  Ben had made a statement, not asked a question, and she couldn’t deny that his observation - and memory that she was prone to them - kind of impressed her.   _ Kind of. _ They’d been forced to spend time together over the years because of their cousins, but lately something had changed. She shrugged noncommittally, and resumed her cleaning.  She felt his footsteps approaching her, and had to suppress a sigh.  He was nothing if not persistent.

“You are cleaning...with a migraine.  I remember how bad those things get for you...how are you on your feet right now?”

Rosaline breathed through a fresh wave of nausea as she thought about their evening plans.  “If I didn’t do it, Juliet and Livia would be doing it, because Jules’s mom is gracing us with her presence after the concert tonight.  They’ve...they’ve been waiting for this stupid show for months, I’m not going to let a stupid little headache deprive them of that.”

“ _ Little hea- _ are you  _ kidding _ me, Capulet?  Sit down!” She obeyed, surprised by his vehemence.  Benvolio sat on the couch next to her.  He plucked the duster from her hand, and surprised her again by taking her hand and massaging the space between her thumb and forefinger.  The firm touch (or rather, her initial reaction to his firm touch) brought on a particularly painful throb, but it was immediately followed by a wave of relief.  By no means was the migraine gone, but it had dropped to a much more manageable level, and her nausea had passed.  Rosaline sighed in relief, and felt her entire body start to relax into the couch.  “Helping?”  All she could do was nod, and his soft chuckle was somehow warmer, more tender, than she’d ever heard from the Montague.  His deft fingers move to a point on her wrist, and Rosaline was sure this would have felt much more intimate were she not suddenly loopy with exhaustion.

\--

The Capulet didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until the moment she woke up.  It took her a minute of looking around to piece together that she was in her own bed, covered with blankets, and the sun was already down for the day.   _ Wait...no, not down _ .  Upon closer inspection, a blanket had been draped over the curtains to block out the light.  The best part of all was the fact that her migraine had died down significantly, leaving her only with a dull ache and no more nausea.  Swinging her legs over the side of the bed and sitting up were both slow steps, unwilling as she was to rekindle the brutal throbbing.  Motrin and water sat waiting on her nightstand, which she took right away.

While part of her wondered how Ben had managed to get her into bed without waking her up, she was more distracted by the fact that he’d been so quick to step into ‘caretaker’ mode once he’d figured out what was wrong with her.  A glance at her phone told Rosaline that it was nearly six...the others would be back within the hour, her aunt would be there soon after, and there’d been  _ so much work to do _ before her Montague-induced nap.  Good thing she’d woken up feeling better, so that she could-

The gentle clinking of dishes brought her internal lamenting to a halt, and she looked up to see Ben moving carefully around her kitchen, sleeves rolled up and a hand towel draped over his shoulder like he lived there.  “Ben? What are you doing?”

The Montague nearly dropped the bowl in his hands out of surprise, and winced at the clatter of it hitting the other dishes in the cabinet.  His face didn’t relax until he peeked at her face through his lashes and saw no sign of pain, and Rosaline couldn’t help an affectionate grin.  “I didn’t expect you up yet, I was planning on waking you an hour before  _ Lady Capulet _ arrives.”  She giggled at his snarky name for her aunt, and the responding smile stirred something in her chest.  “You look a lot better.”

“I  _ feel _ a lot better, thank you.  But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“After you fell asleep, I called Livia, and she agreed to be DD for the others so that I could finish the cleaning while you rested,” he murmured.  Visibly uncomfortable over her intense scrutiny, Ben turned back to the dish rack and dried a plate that Rosaline was quite confident didn’t have a drop of water on it.  She didn’t quite know what to make of this... _ kind _ ,  _ caring _ Benvolio after years of snark, sarcasm, and bickering.

“H...how did you know about those pressure point things, by the way? And using the blanket as a blackout curtain?”  She stepped into the kitchen, a small smile tugging at her lips as he blushed furiously and confirmed her suspicion.  He opened and closed his mouth several times, clearly trying to come up with an answer that didn’t give him away completely. 

Finally, when she’d hesitated just steps away from him, Ben put down the dishes and turned to face her fully.  The sincerity in his blue eyes caught her breath in her chest.  “I...did some research into what might help, after the last time you were sidelined for a couple of days from a migraine.  You’d said the meds don’t really do anything if you can’t catch it early, so...I figured it’d be good to have something else to try next time.”

If he was going to say anything else from there, the Montague was stunned into silence when she closed the distance between them and pressed a kiss to his cheek.  She remains in his space, hand on his chest and faces mere inches apart.  “Thank you, Benvolio.  I know you’d been looking forward to the concert too, no matter how much you denied it.  You didn’t have to come here and give that up for me.”

Warm hands came up to cradle her face, and Ben’s eyes flitted to her lips for a moment before returning to hold her gaze, steady and enchanting.  “I wasn’t about to abandon you to deal with all of that alone, Capulet.  You’ve spent your life looking after your sister, Juliet...even me, Romeo and Mercutio the last few years.  Without a thought for yourself, you have always made sacrifices to make sure we were cared for.  It’s about time someone took care of  _ you _ for a change, don’t you think?”  His breath was warm on her face, and his thumb traced the swell of her cheek.  Rosaline could hardly breathe.  She was sure he could feel her pulse racing under his fingertips, if the pleasant curve of his lips was anything to go by.  

It took her a beat to realize that he was drawing her closer.  He was moving carefully, slowly, giving her the opportunity to push him away if she wanted to.   _ Did she want to?  _ This was  _ Benvolio Montague _ after all...the one who found far too much enjoyment in driving her up a wall, who had quite the reputation as a ladies man (granted, she had to begrudgingly admit that he’d proven that wrong once she got to know him).  Granted, he was also the one who just spent three hours cleaning her house after learning what to do to make her feel better.  He was the ‘dad’ to her ‘mom’ to their friends, and had never shied away from fulfilling his part of those unofficial duties.  He was charming, funny, loyal...Rosaline was quickly realizing she had absolutely no reason to push him back any longer.

So with a giddy smile, Rosaline pushed herself up onto her toes and closed the gap herself.  Benvolio chuckled against her lips, sliding his hands into her hair easily.  Rosaline curled one hand around the back of his neck, and the other slid into the back pocket of his jeans.  

“A bit eager are we, Capulet?  Good to know you really  _ are _ feeling better.”

“Do you want to waste what little time we have left talking, or continuing with the more enjoyable activity you so rudely interrupted?”  Ben swallowed her peal of laughter, and she felt his smug grin when he turned them to press her back against the counter and the laugh became a moan.  He boxed her in easily and rocked his hips slowly against her.  Rosaline dropped her head back, allowing it to  _ thunk _ against the cabinet door behind her.  She tightened her hand over Ben’s ass, bit down on her bottom lip when he growled against her throat.  He dragged wet kisses down to her shoulder and bit down, drawing a whimper from her that should have been embarrassing.  

_ Would _ have been, had it been anyone else overwhelming her senses in that moment.  She knew that she was safe with Ben...that her heart was safe, and she didn’t quite know what to do with that.  When his hands dropped to curl around her thighs and lift her easily up onto the counter, thoughts fled from her mind and she hooked her heels around the backs of his legs.  With the new angle, Ben was free to focus his attention on her clavicle, which he tasted hungrily before moving down over her chest.  He paused for a moment over her heart, feeling how her pulse raced for him, and traced his teeth over the slope of her breast.

“Ben...God, Ben, we need to slow down,” Rosaline rasped.  He immediately drew back, eyes locked on hers as he dragged in heavy breaths.  “They’re going to be back any minute.  I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to give them  _ that _ much of a show just yet.”  She tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pressed her forehead against his.  Every ounce of self-control she had was poured into keeping herself from dragging him into her room, and she started with dropping her feet so that her legs simply dangled over the edge of the counter.  

Benvolio attempted to step back, but she shook her head and refused to let him go.  They stood there for a moment, him between her knees and hands planted firmly on the counter, and fought to calm down.  “‘Just yet’, hmm?  Does that mean you enjoyed this?”

“Oh don’t be an ass, Montague.  Maybe that was just my way of thanking you for being the first one to manage getting rid of a migraine.”

Tenderness seeped into Ben’s expression, and Rosaline felt her heart twist.  He’d been genuinely concerned for her, was even still.  It was moments like this that reminded her of just how wrong people usually were about him...and she found that she didn’t mind if this affection was limited to a very select few people in his life, so long as she was near the top of that list.  “You know,” he drawled, leaning his head back and canting it to the side as if thinking hard on something.  “There’s something else that I’ve heard can work wonders for migraines…”

“Is that so?”

He nodded with mock seriousness.  “Oh yes...but it would also be inappropriate for the kids to see, so it will have to wait until the kids are off at school or something to test the theory.”  It took her a moment to understand what he was implying, and could not help the blush that heated her face and neck.  The soft touch of his thumb across her cheek made her shudder, and Ben smiled.  “Even after what we just got caught up in, I am still able to fluster you with promises of new ways to ease your pain,” he gloated.

Rosaline shook her head, pushing him away with a chuckle.  The instant he’d moved out of the space between her legs, though, she missed his warmth, and couldn’t resist the desire to yank him back to her.  

“You’re going to give me whiplash, Ros.”  She raised a challenging brow at him, pointedly ignoring the stupidly charming grin and the bright sparkle of joy in his eyes.  It didn’t take long for him to cave and kiss her, and Rosaline gave a little victorious noise in the back of her throat.  

They stayed just in that spot, keeping themselves from going too far but still lost in their embrace, without any care for time. It wasn’t until the door banged open and their friends poured into the house that the couple jumped apart, looking disheveled but entirely unapologetic about it.  Romeo was the first to notice them, and immediately started beaming.  “ _ Finally! _ ” He turned to Mercutio, who cursed bitterly and pulled out his wallet.  “Thank you kind sir, it has been a pleasure.”  Benvolio helped Rosaline off of the counter before turning to them with a questioning look.

Before the younger Montague could answer though, Livia spoke up, arms crossed over her chest.  “Oh, she’s got such a serious migraine, does she?”

No matter how much they insisted that she had, in fact, been laid out by her migraine, none of their friends truly believed them.  As they all settled into the living room, Rosaline sitting easily against Benvolio’s chest as though she’d done it a million times, the elder Capulet sister could not bring herself to care.  His fingers absentmindedly began to knead the pressure points in her hand and wrist again, and the relief it brought once more was the only indication she’d had that the pain had started to return.  She leaned her head back against his shoulder and was overwhelmed by the affection and concern in his eyes.  A simple nod answered his unspoken question, and she pressed a grateful kiss to his lips.  

“Okay, you two aren’t going to be as bad as Romeo and Juliet now, are you?”

Ben broke the kiss to gently shush the boisterous Mercutio, gesturing towards Rosaline with his head.  The dark-haired man was genuinely sheepish, and seemed to be the only one not shocked by the realization that Rosaline had, in fact, been ill.  Rosaline giggled lightly as the others gaped at them, knowing how long it  _ usually _ took her to recover, and how quickly she’d apparently come out of this one.  

“Rosaline, you should have said something this morning!” Livia hissed quietly. 

“I’m calling my mom, rescheduling for tomorrow,” Juliet added.

“No!” Rosaline insisted.  “Let’s just get it over with...I’ll just make Ben stay in case she triggers another one.” Despite the humor in her tone, Rosaline found herself nervous that he would refuse.  Giuliana Capulet was not much of a fan of the Montague family, after all...she would not blame him in the slightest if he refused.  His only response was to grin at her and press a tender kiss to the hand he was massaging.  

No matter what the evening would bring, she knew he’d be right there beside her, and it brought her a peace she’d never expected to find in the likes of Benvolio Montague.


	3. "Run and Save Yourself!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Capulet, for the love of God, run and save yourself!" One-shot speculation fic about the clip from the promo that will continue to haunt us until July 8.

Benvolio Montague wondered how he managed to stumble into these messes so often.  Apparently Truchio had not been the only one working for their mystery mastermind; the masked man before him was a much better swordsman, and was relentless in his attack.  Gramio, a bitter cousin of Rosaline’s, stood nearby, watching the battle and taunting Benvolio like the coward he was.  The Montague leapt nimbly up to the stone ledge overlooking a pool of water to avoid a vicious swing.  His attacker followed suit, and Benvolio counted himself blessed to have excellent balance.  Even so, the man before him was not abiding by rules of honor, and had given Benvolio no time to gain his bearings.  He parried another blow, and was caught offguard when his free hand collided with his ribs.  With a low grunt, Benvolio stumbled backwards, heart leaping into his throat when his foot slipped off of the ledge.  

_ “Benvolio!”  _ The cry from the other end of the courtyard spurred the Montague to twist himself and land somewhat gracefully facedown, which allowed him to force himself back to his feet instantly.  The attacker had heard Rosaline too, and had dropped to the ground to start towards her.  

With a roar, Benvolio leapt forward and tackled him from behind.  Once he was sure he had a hold of the stranger, he allowed himself to look up at his betrothed, terror clear on her face.  “Capulet, for the love of God, run and save yourself!”

Stars exploded in his eyes when an elbow connected with his face, and before Benvolio could regain his grip fire erupted across his chest.  The man shoved him back, and he could not fight against the gravity that left him collapsing onto his back.  As his attacker rose to his feet, attention solely on the wounded man on the ground, Benvolio fought to catch his breath. Gramio cackled from just behind the masked man, but Benvolio could not make out his words.  Glancing around, he realized his sword had fallen feet away.  With one hand pressed against the bloody wound on his chest, he scrambled for the weapon, until it was snatched away from his grasp.  His attacker loomed over him, black mask taunting, and Benvolio found himself praying that Rosaline had - for once - listened to him without question.  He did not want her to witness his death...not like this.

Death never came, though...instead, Benvolio watched in horror as the man turned and buried his sword in Gramio’s belly.  Without looking back to Benvolio, the attacker released the sword, still embedded in the Capulet, and darted off into the shadows.  “S-stop!” Benvolio cried.  He struggled to push himself upright, clenching his jaw against the fire burning in his chest.

A scream drew Benvolio’s attention, and an older woman stood at the entrance into the courtyard with a hand to her mouth.  “Murderer!” she accused, pointing to Benvolio.  He desperately looked back to Gramio, and shook his head in denial, but when he looked back to the entryway the woman was gone.  

Spent, and resigned to the fact that he’d never make it up and away before the Royal Guard arrived, Benvolio collapsed back to the ground.  Suddenly, gentle hands were on his face and shoulder.   _ Rosaline _ .  “Capulet...you’re not supposed to be here…”

“Hush, save your breath,” she insisted, eyes fixed on his injury and fingers carefully drawing his doublet away to get a better look.  Tears were pooling in her eyes, and Benvolio reached up to weakly brush them away.  “We have to get you to the Friar...he’ll fix this.”

“Friar Lawrence...has been banished from Verona.  You have to go, Rosaline,” he breathed tiredly.  “A maid came across the fight after the masked man fled.  I am falsely accused of murder, my lady...the Guard will be here in a moment.”

“No,” Rosaline growled.  In spite of his weakness, he could not help the swell of pride and affection.  Even in the face of such a dark situation, she maintained her ferocity and determination.  Without another word, she slid her arm under his shoulders, and gave him no choice but to assist her the best that he could in getting him to his feet.  He bit back a groan, trying to make sure her dress stayed away from the mess of his chest.  The trek out of the courtyard was slow and breathtakingly painful on his part, and they managed to make it to the cover of trees just before the Guard arrived.  Rosaline breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and turned to Benvolio with concerned eyes.  “My father’s cottage is not far.  Can you press on until we make it?”

A determined nod was his only response.  Rosaline ducked smoothly under his arm, and he drew strength from her to continue on.  By the time they made it to the cottage, his legs were trembling with each step, and she was taking on more of his weight than he could handle on his own.  As soon as she guides him inside, she eases him down on a bed and brushes sweat-matted hair away from his forehead.  

“I will return shortly with my sister...she will be able to tend to your wound, and we will determine what to do from there.  I will not let you take the blame for a murder you did not commit.”

“You...speak with such confidence...yet you did not see your cousin slain.”

“My dear Benvolio, you claim innocence.  That is enough for me.”  She pressed a kiss to his forehead, startling him with her affection, and then rose to her feet.  “Rest.  We will make haste in our return, so long as you hold on.”  He could only nod with a tired smile, and rested himself back, grateful for the comfort provided by the mattress.

\--

As instructed, the young Montague took the opportunity during his beloved’s absence to rest.  He drifted in and out of awareness for a while, woken from time to time by a particularly painful throb.  It was a gentle hand to his shoulder that brought him back to steady wakefulness, but it was not the Capulet he expected to see leaning over him.  Livia was staring at him, confused and concerned, and his own worry stabbed at his heart.  “Rosaline?” he rasped.

“The Prince had a few...questions for her.  You are a wanted man, Montague…” Her hesitation worried him, and his eyes turned to the door.  “I do not know what happened, but my sister seems to believe you innocent, and her trust is enough for me.  You will be safe here until Rosaline is able to get away from the Palace.”  With that, she got to work cleaning and suturing the wound on his chest.  She was gentle as she could be, and apologized when he groaned in pain.  Once she finished and was able to apply a soothing poultice, she helped him to sit up so that she could wrap a bandage around his chest.  A hand at his shoulder helped to ease him back down, and he nodded his thanks to her.  “You are lucky, my lord, an inch deeper, and it would have been your death.”

Benvolio nodded, settling his palm over the bandage.  “The man who truly slew Gramio was a masterful swordsman.  Thank you, Lady Livia...I am sure it cannot be easy to trust a Montague, particularly one with such a serious accusation against him.”

Livia watched him silently for a moment, and then rose to her feet gracefully.  “As I said, Rosaline’s trust in you is enough for me.  She would not have brought you here were it not dire, and had she not deemed you worthy.”  He looked around the room, finally able to take in their family’s home.  “There are very few alive who know of this place.  Not even the Prince is aware it exists...we spent our childhoods in this home.”

“Why did you not stay, even after the your parents were taken from you?” Benvolio whispered.  Livia smiled sadly and shook her head.

“Forgive me, Signor Montague, but that is a story to be told by my sister.”

“And it will have to wait for another night.  Escalus has ordered your execution for the murder of Gramio.”  Benvolio and Livia were startled by Rosaline’s voice at the door.  “He would not hear me, would not listen to reason.  He has...called off the betrothal, asked me to marry him,” she whispered.  

Jealousy swelled in Benvolio’s chest at her words, but it reaffirmed what he knew he would have to do.  “You should return to him.”  Rosaline stalked forward, shocked by his words and preparing to argue when he held up a hand to stop her.  “I have to flee, my dear Capulet.  Whether to clear my name or save my life, Verona is not safe for me at the moment.”  He carefully pushed himself upright, and eventually to his feet before her.  His hands came up to cradle both sides of her face tenderly.  “If I know you are safe, cared for...that will be enough.”

As he should have expected, Rosaline responded with fiery determination.  “You are a fool, Benvolio Montague, if you believe I will allow you to do this alone.  You are injured.  I am coming with you.”

_ “Rosaline!”  _ Livia gasped.

“Absolutely  _ not _ ,” Benvolio hissed.  “I’ll not risk you any further for this madman’s bloody plans to destroy Verona!”

Rosaline raised a challenging brow and crossed her arms over her chest.  “And if you fail?  If you are captured, or your wound becomes infected and you succumb to your injuries, and leave us without any proof that there is someone else plotting against our fair city, what then?  Would I not be at risk along with everyone else  _ anyway _ ?”  The two shared a heated glare, neither willing to concede, until Benvolio finally accepted that he would not change her mind.

“You will be the death of me, Capulet,” he grumbled.

“No,  _ my lord _ , in this particular case, I will be the one to ensure the  _ life _ of you.  Come, we must away while we still can.”  Without hesitation, she turned and yanked Livia against her chest in a tight hug.  “Be careful, my sweet sister.  Thank you, we will return.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Rosaline.  I will not tell a soul of what took place this evening.  Be safe.”

Benvolio bowed respectfully to Livia and the pair snuck out into the night.  He knew it would be a long and painful journey, but could not deny that Rosaline’s presence gave him the strength and motivation he needed to press on through the ache in his chest and find the answers that he so desperately needed.


	4. I'm Willing to Wait For It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benvolio struggles with guilt and anger, and has a little help in finding the will to press on. Inspired by a GIF set on Tumblr using the Hamilton lyrics "If there's a reason I'm still alive, when everyone who loves me has died, I'm willing to wait for it."

_ “Play the game, nephew.  And cheer up! Remember: you’re in love.” _

With a heavy sigh, Benvolio settled himself at the table he so often claimed with his brothers.  He could not stop the day’s events from replaying in his mind, and he’d desperately needed to escape the suffocating air of his uncle’s house.  Being used as target practice was not particularly unusual; he’d learned agility the hard way several times over the years...but he’d crossed a line with his bitter comment about Romeo and Juliet, and had been certain for a moment that Damiano would finally put him out of his misery.  One thing was certain: had the blacksmith not been present, his uncle would have  _ certainly _ made sure Benvolio answered for daring to speak against his Lord...especially about such a sensitive topic.

“Sullen is not a look that befits you, brother.”

Grief washed over Benvolio, and it took a moment for him to gather the strength to look up into the faces he’d been missing so.  Romeo sat beside him, Mercutio across from him...both appeared solid enough that Benvolio ached to reach out and touch them, though he knew they were but spectres.  He opened his mouth to speak, but could not form words around the tightness of his throat.

“He grieves the loss of his freedom to a Capulet,” Mercutio teased.  “After bemoaning your wedding to Juliet, he has been forced into one of his own. A bit ironic, is it not?” 

In spite of himself, Benvolio could not help a grin.  For a fleeting moment, he could imagine his world had been righted...that his cousin and best friend were actually with him, rather than simply shades...that he hadn’t been abandoned by the only two people left to care about him.  “At least I have some worth to my uncle once more,” Benvolio replied wryly.

Romeo was suddenly somber and reached out as if he too had forgotten that he could no longer touch his cousin. Both Montagues watched as his hand fell back to his side. “You will be free from his House soon enough, cousin.  Be strong... _ have faith _ .  You are not so alone as you believe.”  Benvolio huffed a disbelieving, bitter laugh, and looked up to his cousin’s ghostly face.  The sincerity he read in those painfully familiar eyes left him unsettled, but still he shook his head.

“We must go, Ben.  But we are with you, brother...always,” Mercutio murmured.  Before his eyes they both faded, leaving Benvolio with an ache in his chest deeper than before they’d visited.  He dropped his head, and his eyes were drawn to the etching of their names from many moons ago.  Trembling fingers reached out to trace over Mercutio’s name, then Romeo’s.  He drew his dagger to deepen the carvings, but as he worked on his own name he was overwhelmed with self-loathing.  

How dare he think himself worthy to be considered alongside his cousin and best friend, who showed their honor and compassion even in death?  What had he to show for his own worth without them?  With a grimace, Benvolio scratched his name out until it was unrecognizable.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”  Drunken laughter left Benvolio’s skin crawling, and he looked up to see the worthless cad Truchio waving his goblet around dramatically.  “So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, I’ll take the Capulet whore for free!” The memory of how close he’d come to doing just that stoked flames of anger in Benvolio’s chest, and he took a deep breath to try to calm himself before he did something rash.

“I want no more trouble from you, Truchio.  And you should want no more from me.”  

Truchio laughed in arrogant amusement, and made his way towards Benvolio.  “Who knew Lord Montague’s nephew had such a sweet tongue,” he taunted.  “Are you going to use it on your very own Capulet harlot, or was it only the traitor Romeo who got to taste the forbidden Capulet fruit?”

Where the insult to his betrothed had ignited his rage, the fact that Truchio dared sully the name of his deceased cousin brought forth wrath so consuming that Benvolio saw red; when asked later to describe what happened from there, the Montague would remember the rest of the evening as a blur.

\--

Following the chaos of the betrothal ceremony, Benvolio found himself restless and unsettled.  He could not stop thinking over Truchio’s words, his betrayal.  He could not stop thinking over his interaction with Rosaline before they parted ways...how he’d actually  _ enjoyed _ her company.  Nothing seemed to make sense in his life anymore, and he felt painfully lost.

“Benvolio…”

The Montague halted, pain twisting in his chest.  “Must you torture me so?”

The spectre of Romeo stood before him, eyes sorrowful.  “Forgive me, cousin.  I wish not to cause you pain...I-”

“ _ Not cause me pain _ ?  From the day you abandoned me to this hell alone, I have had to fight to survive each day.  You left the city to crumble...and you left  _ me _ to bear the weight as it falls!  Your father already cursed my existence, but now?  Not even the presence of his blacksmith kept him from using me as target practice!  I have  _ no one  _ to turn to! I never wanted  _ any _ of this...you and your wife could have saved us all from so much loss and bloodshed...but you did not heed my words, you acted rashly, and  _ you left me behind _ with no one left alive who loves me.”

By the time he finished, Benvolio’s chest was heaving, and shock and guilt quickly replaced his anger.  He stumbled backwards until he was pressed against a wall.  He’d never lashed out at his cousin before...he’d also not allowed himself to dwell on the anger he’d felt towards Romeo for  _ choosing _ to leave him.  No matter how much he told himself that his cousin’s choice had been about so much more than Benvolio, the sting of betrayal still lingered.

“I pray that one day you will be able to forgive me.  I...I had been blinded by my grief, and could not bring myself to consider the pain it would bring to my loved ones...to  _ you _ in particular.”  He stood before Benvolio, drawing his best friend’s tear-filled eyes.  “I am truly sorry, Benvolio.  You were a true friend always, to my last day.  But hear me, cousin: you  _ are _ still loved.”

Benvolio scoffed.  “By whom, Romeo?  The only family I have left cannot stand the  _ sight _ of me, and likely would have killed me by now were I not his only remaining heir.  Even my betrothed has shown more emotion for the man who attacked her and killed dozens of innocent people than she would ever show for me.”  Exhausted, the young lord slid down to sitting and buried his head in his hands.  “Why am I the one still alive, when anyone that ever loved me has died?  What was  _ I _ the one to survive, the  _ expendable _ one?”

“You have  _ never _ been expendable,” Romeo hissed vehemently.  “Perhaps bloodlines and titles are all that matter to my father, but that is  _ not _ the reason that you are the one still breathing.  Your purpose is one that you cannot yet see, dear cousin...but you  _ will _ .  And when you do, you will understand that you have never truly been alone.”  

Benvolio searched his cousin’s face, and only became more confused when Romeo gave him a knowing smile.  “What do you mean by that?”

“You will understand soon enough.  Remain strong against my father and against those wishing to destroy Verona.  Goodbye, Ben.”

Before Benvolio could respond, the shade vanished, and he could only shake his head in disbelief.  If his cousin’s ghost had spoken truth, there was much he did not yet understand.   _ Lord, if there truly is some greater purpose for my life, I ask your will be done.  I will press on to honor the memories of Romeo and Mercutio, and continue to defend this great city to my last breath.  If there is a reason I'm still alive, when everyone who loves me has died...I'm willing to wait for it. _   He gave himself a moment to regain his wits before pushing to his feet and turning home.  He needed rest, after all, if he were to keep up with the likes of Rosaline Capulet in their search for the true mastermind behind the day’s tragedy.


	5. Sugar Water, Grape Juice...Same Difference.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the same Modern!AU as Migraine. The gang goes to the grocery store together, and runs into an old friend.

“Okay, Juliet and Livia, you’re on freezer section and produce, boys, you’ve got cleaning supplies, I’ll grab the booze and dry goods. Got it?”

Rosaline grinned when she was met with a chorus of sarcastic  _ ‘yes, mom’ _ s, until Mercutio split away from the others to block her path.  “Oh no, you are not going to be the only one responsible for choosing the alcohol, Cap.  Don’t think I forgot that sugar water crap you picked up last time.” 

“It is not  _ sugar water _ , it’s called  _ moscato _ and-”

“Okay, forgive me, it’s grape juice.  Either way, I’m coming with you to get some  _ real  _ alcohol for the men.”  Rosaline opened her mouth to retort, but Mercutio was already off for the liquor aisle, leaving her to glare in his wake.  Benvolio chuckled at her, and winked when she turned her gaze to him.  Before her wrath could redirect to him as well, he was gone, jogging after Romeo.  With a growl, Rosaline stalked after Mercutio.  

She couldn’t help the warmth that spread in her chest when she finally caught up to her boyfriend’s best friend.  He stood with a basket hanging from his elbow, a bottle of her favorite moscato peeking out over the top, and was comparing two different bottles of whiskey.  She sidled up next to him with an inquisitive look at his options, and didn’t miss the smirk fighting to curl his lips.  

“R-Rosaline?”

The familiar voice made the woman in question tense, and Mercutio turned his head to gauge her expression.  At her weak smile he raised a brow, and rather than responding she simply turned to face the newcomer.  “Escalus.”  Memories of a brief but intense relationship flashed in her mind, and she shook herself to clear them away.

“You look great, Rose.  How are you?”  It took everything in her not to cringe at his nickname.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking...and you?”

Exasperation filled her ex-boyfriend’s eyes.  “Must we be so formal?  We used to be-”

“I  _ know _ what we used to be.  I remember it well.  It’s taken me some time to  _ let go _ of what we used to be,” she murmured.

Suddenly he was in her space, and Rosaline straightened in surprise.  “Maybe this is the time that we try again,” he suggested.  “I’ll do right by you this time...what do you say?  Will you let me take you to dinner?”

With a disbelieving huff, she stepped back.  “No. We had our shot, and like I said, I’ve moved on.  It was good to see you, Escalus, but I have to go.”

“Rose,  _ wait _ ,” he pleaded, hand snapping out to grip her wrist tightly.  Rosaline hissed against the painful hold, and suddenly her view of her ex was blocked by the broad shoulders of Mercutio.  She knew from personal experience how intimidating he could be when he wanted, and if the speed with which Escalus released her was any indication, Mercutio was employing every ounce of his bravado.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt her! Rose!”  Escalus tried to look around her friend with pleading eyes.

“She gave you her answer.  You aren’t owed anything more, so I suggest you walk away.”  The intensity in his voice stunned Rosaline; the last time she’d heard such protectiveness, it had been over Ben and directed at  _ her _ .  Oh, how far they’d come from those days.  She stepped up beside him, and Escalus glanced between them with narrowed eyes.  

“Is this your boyfriend?”  

Rosaline gaped at him for a moment.  “Escalus, I-”

Arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind, and the comforting, endearing,  _ safe _ presence of Benvolio at her back overwhelmed all of her senses.  She curled her hands around his forearms and rested her chin atop her fingers with a contented smile.  Ben’s lips settled against the shell of her ear, and she couldn’t help a shiver when he spoke.  “The kids are just about done with your list, babe.  Are you and ‘Cutio quite finished bickering over the booze?”

The soft clearing of a throat brought the couple back to the moment, and Mercutio was smirking over at them.  Rosaline couldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed.  Ben’s arms tensed around her for a second, and she realized that he hadn’t noticed the other party present. “Sorry...Escalus, this is Mercutio, and this,” she patted the arms still draped across her clavicle, “is my boyfriend Ben.”  Escalus looked between Rosaline and Ben’s faces, jaw clenching and lips twitching towards a frown.  None of the men spoke for a long moment, and Rosaline couldn’t help but wonder if there were about to come to blows in the middle of the supermarket.

“It looks as though you have more than enough to keep you occupied, Rose.  Excuse me.”  

Rosaline kept a firm grip on Ben when he tried to pull away, and watched Mercutio carefully until Escalus was out of sight.  “He is not even  _ remotely _ worth ruining our night.  Certainly not worth your  _ jealousy _ .”  She finally let her boyfriend go and turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest.  Neither he nor Mercutio looked apologetic, and the latter matched her stance.

“I don’t know if jealousy would be the right word.  We may not have been particularly fond of you at the time, Cap, but Romeo told us all about what happened between the two of you.  He could use a reminder of what it means to be a man.”

A glance to Benvolio told her that he agreed with his best friend’s statement.  Tears stung her eyes; it still felt somewhat strange to have someone want to defend her honor.  She was still adjusting to having someone other than Livia and Juliet genuinely care for her wellbeing, and here she had garnered the love of not only Benvolio, but those most important to him as well.  

Forcing a bright grin, she drew away from her boyfriend, lifted herself up onto her toes to plant a kiss on Mercutio’s cheek, and pranced away to find the others.  Rosaline glanced over her shoulder just before she turned a corner to see Benvolio grinning at his best friend with a quirked brow.

It didn’t take her long to find Livia, Juliet and Romeo.  Benvolio was not far behind, and she had to bite her lip to smother a yelp when he caught her around the waist and tugged her back against his chest.  “Now how is it fair that Mercutio gets a kiss and I don’t?”

Livia and Juliet fall abruptly silent at the question, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation.  Just as she took a breath to reply, he buried his face in her neck and dragged his stubble back and forth until she squealed.  No matter how she squirmed, he held fast, tickling her relentlessly and grinning against her skin at her unrestrained giggles.  “Yield,” he breathed.

“Never!” she gasped, continuing to twist against his hold.  Ben redoubled his efforts, this time playing his fingers along her sides, arms tightening to keep her upright when she started to double over.  Her cheeks ached and she felt lightheaded with her laughter.

_ “Yield _ , Capulet.”  This time, he followed his command by dragging his teeth along her earlobe, leaving her weak in the knees for an entirely different reason.  

“Damn you, Montague.” Finally giving in, she turned herself in his arms and granted him the kiss he’d been seeking.  His victorious smirk against her lips was almost endearing, and the languid pass of his tongue across her bottom lip erased all memory of Escalus from her thoughts.

“Jeez, can’t you to wait the  _ five minutes _ til we can pay for our stuff and get out of here?” Romeo groaned.  Benvolio was suddenly moving from her, and Rosaline opened her eyes to see her cousin’s fiance dragging him backwards with an affectionately exasperated look.  

“Told you, they’re worse than you and Jules.”  Benvolio shoved at Mercutio, and the group finally made their way to the cashier.  Rosaline hung back for a moment, watching the people she loved most teasing and laughing together.  Benvolio noticed her absence, paused, and reached out for her with a questioning look.  Immediately she tucked herself into his side, and sighed happily when he pressed a loving kiss to her temple.


	6. Fine Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern!AU (NOT in the same thread as the other two, which will be getting their own story thread soon enough) 
> 
> *This chapter, especially the second half, has ADULT CONTENT*
> 
> Most of the gang goes out to a bar, and watching Ben flirt with pretty sorority girls makes it impossible for Rosaline to deny her feelings any longer. When she starts dancing with a random stranger, apparently Ben can't deny it anymore either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally blame TheSushiMonster for this hahaha...I'd been trying to keep to my best behavior...and then I read 'Hold On, Stay' and it freaking wrecked me. I forgot how much I have a thing for that...and I had to write this to get it out of my system. Seriously...if you enjoy fun NSFW stuff, it is a must read. Fantastically written.

Rosaline sipped on her drink slowly, eyes following a certain dirty-blonde Montague over the rim of her glass.  He and Mercutio were busy chatting up a few beautiful sorority girls, and she realized she could no longer deny her feelings.  After years of hating him (only the first couple of those being genuine hatred), Benvolio had wormed his way under her skin and into her heart.  _ Damn him _ .  Surprise surprise, though, he was completely oblivious and completely uninterested.  Too often that meant she was stuck watching him play wingman for his best friend, flirting up a storm and more often than not ending up with a gorgeous woman on his arm.  

“If you glare any harder he’s going to combust,” Juliet whispered from across the table.  Rosaline spun back to face her, and heat quickly rose up her neck.  Juliet had a knowing grin on her face, but Romeo...Romeo was watching her with a peculiar look.  She willed herself to deny it, to insist that Juliet was mistaken, but the small smile that tugged at his lips made her sigh.

“You two keep dancing around each other, and it’s starting to make me dizzy.”  At her furrowed brow, he turned his eyes to his cousin.  “You look at him when he’s not paying attention, and don’t think he does the same...but you’re wrong.  If you two stopped trying so hard to look like you hate each other for two seconds, you’d do us all a huge favor and save yourselves a hell of a lot of stress.”

Rosaline gaped at him.  “W-wha...I have no idea what you’re talking about! Trust me, there’s no effort required to look like I hate him.”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, sweet Rosaline, and you two are dancing on it.”

With a huff of frustration, Rosaline downed the rest of her drink and pushed herself away from the table.  “I’m getting another drink, and then  _ dancing _ sounds like a really good idea.”  She sent a look to Juliet, who shrugged and nudged Romeo out of the booth.  The couple made their way to the dance floor as Rosaline headed for the bar.  When she looked up, she realized with a groan of frustration that she’d wound up directly beside Mercutio, Benvolio, and their now  _ crowd _ of giggling dingbats.  She turned her back to them, knowing full well it wouldn’t help in the slightest.  “Shot of Jameson please?”  

The bartender nodded, and Rosaline rested her hip against the bar.  She took a moment to look around, eyes lingering on a few attractive prospects, until she sensed the presence of someone at her shoulder.  “Whiskey, Capulet? That’s not your usual choice,” Benvolio drawled in her ear.  Rosaline had to smother a shiver when his warm breath tickled her ear. 

“Don’t you have some sorority girls to sweep off their feet?”  She tried to step away from him, but he followed with a low chuckle, and this time she couldn’t stop herself from trembling.

“Is that... _ jealousy _ that I hear?” he taunted with a smirk clear in his voice.  Rosaline forced herself to scoff indignantly.

The bartender couldn’t have chosen a better time to deliver her drink, and she was quick to down it.  When she finally turned to face the man who haunted far too many of her thoughts lately, his eyes were dark, hungry... _ no _ .  It must’ve been a trick of the low lighting.  “Don’t flatter yourself, Montague.  Now please, if you would go back to your harem, you’re preventing me from finding my own fun.”

In the space of a heartbeat, she found herself nose to nose with Benvolio, his hands framing her waist at the bar.  She felt frozen, shocked by his brazen move and overwhelmed by his nearness.  “I’m not sure you would know  _ fun _ if it was staring you in the face.”  His eyes searched hers, and she found herself able to read through the mask of arrogance to see that hunger once more, and it left her breathless.

“Benny, where’d you go?” a high-pitched, nasally voice called from somewhere behind them.  The man in question closed his eyes and sighed, and caught her off guard when he dropped his forehead to hers for a moment before straightening.  He lingered, eyes still locked with hers.  She had no idea what to make of him, so she resorted to the only thing that was somewhat familiar where he was concerned.

“ _ She _ sounds like worlds of fun,  _ Benny _ .”  A heavy sigh escaped his lips, his chin dropped to his chest, and he shook his head tiredly.  Rosaline canted her head as she watched him.  His seriousness unsettled her, but just like that it was gone.  His disarming smile back in place - it didn’t quite reach his eyes, she noted - Benvolio winked at her and excused himself easily.  “Bloody Montague,” she cursed under her breath.  

“He is an idiot for walking away from a chance to talk to you...I won’t make his mistake.  Can I buy you a drink?” Rosaline looked up to see a handsome man standing before her, and she smiled.  Terrible and predictable though his opening line was, she found herself nodding and requesting another shot, Fireball this time.  The thought crossed her mind that she would never normally go for someone so unoriginal, and she couldn’t deny that it was probably because of Benvolio’s bizarre behavior.  

They downed their shots together, and she grabbed his hand to pull him onto the dance floor.  As soon as they reached Romeo and Juliet, her cousin gave her a pointed look.  Rosaline ignored it, and turned to face her newfound dance partner.  He gave her a charming grin, and settled his hands on her waist.  The beat of the music was heavy in her chest, and Rosaline began to sway in time.  Her hands draped around the stranger’s neck, and she dropped her head back with closed eyes.  

His nose, and then lips, followed the curve of her throat as it was exposed to him.  His fingers curled into her shirt, and then slipped underneath to splay across the warm skin of her back.  The alcohol started to make her head buzz, and she allowed herself to relax against him until they were practically flush against one another.  It wasn’t until his fingers dipped under the waistband of her shorts that she came back to herself.  She turned in his arms smoothly, sliding her fingers between his and drawing his hands up to rest against her stomach over her shirt.  He pressed himself eagerly against her back, and his excitement was evident against her ass.  

Rosaline opened her eyes, her gaze immediately drawn to Benvolio’s, who was watching her surreptitiously over the heads of the sorority girls still fawning over him and Mercutio.  When he realized he’d been caught, rather than trying to look away, Ben straightened with a smirk.  He was  _ challenging  _ her.  Two could play at that game.  She reached up with one hand to play with the hair at the base of her dance partner’s neck and leaned her head back onto his shoulder.  The hands on her stomach tightened, and once again he took advantage of the exposed skin of her neck.  Rosaline bit down on her bottom lip, grinning when Ben’s eyes snapped to her mouth and he tensed.

“You are so beautiful. What do you say we get out of here?”  The sensation of his breath against her ear lit her nerve endings on fire, but she wished that the breath, the touch, belonged to the man she had engaged in a heated staring contest at that moment.  

“Sorry, I’m not looking for someone to go home with tonight.”

The stranger groaned in frustration, and she worried for a moment that he would try to force her.  A victorious smirk on Ben’s face was enough of an indicator, though, that he was going to pull away.  As soon as he did, she turned and thanked him for the dance.  He gave her a longing smile, and headed back for the bar. When she turned back towards Benvolio, her heart sank.  He was gone, and a quick glance around the crowd didn’t reveal him either.  

Rosaline hated how much the Montague had come to hold sway over her feelings.  She’d just had the most intense,  _ hot _ staredown of her life, and as soon as she dismissed the guy she’d been using to make him jealous, he-

“You are thinking too loud, Capulet.”

Rosaline startled at his voice in her ear.  So caught up in her assumptions, she didn’t hear his approach or feel him invade her space.  Warmth spread along her limbs, heat pooled in her belly at the rasp in his voice.  Benvolio slid his hand under her shirt, fingertips rough and warm against her abdomen as he drew her back against him.  His free hand drew her hair away from her neck, and the breath stuttered in her chest when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss just under her jaw.  

“That’s better,” he whispered as she relaxed against his chest.  He released her hair to curl his fingers around her chin and draw her head towards him.  Blue eyes held her captive, searching and seeking, curious and wanting, and only when she smiled at him did Ben close the distance and claim her lips.  Tentative at first, they both took their time to process the fact that  _ this was actually happening _ .  The facade of contempt was gone for good, Rosaline knew with utter certainty, and apparently it was all they needed to finally get out of their own way.

Rosaline turned in his arms, giving herself a better angle to surge forward and kiss him again.  Ben’s hands tugged insistently at her waist for a moment, until she pulled at the hair at the back of his head.  With a low growl, he dropped his hands to the swell of her ass.  His hips rocked against hers as he drew her close, and Rosaline was sure she’d come undone in his arms.  Their foreheads pressed together, and the grin he gave her was one she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen on him before.  Carefree, open,  _ happy _ ...she was not the only one whose heart was fully invested in this.

For a moment, Rosaline was tempted to take his hand and drag him out of the bar.  She wanted nothing more than to see what their hearts could bring them...but that could wait a little bit longer.  Ben pulled her in for another kiss, and she started to sway to the music once more.  He slid a knee easily between hers, and she hummed against his mouth at the pleasant friction.

“Like I said, Ros: fine line,” Romeo teased from behind her.  Ben pulled back with a confused look, and she glanced at his cousin over her shoulder.  Juliet was practically giddy with excitement.

“Smug is not a good look for you, Romeo.”  She got nothing but a wink in reply, and chuckled when she turned back to an even more confused Ben.  “So maybe you were right about the jealousy thing,” she admitted.

“Ya think?”

“Oh, and I suppose having another guy feel me up on the dance floor had nothing to do with you finally getting over yourself and showing me how you feel?”  He gaped at her, unable to argue, and Rosaline giggled.  Knowing they would not be doing anymore dancing anytime soon, she tugged him back to their booth. He slid in beside her and his hand settled on her knee.  “Had you owned up to it sooner, instead of running back to those sorority girls, there wouldn’t have been a need for me to dance with some random frat boy who couldn’t come up with a decent pickup line to save his life.”

“Well forgive me for making you wait, love…though I have to admit I enjoyed watching you torture the poor bastard for my sake.  At least he had excellent taste in women.”  He captured her lips with his own, sweet and unhurried and somehow much more intimate than what they’d shared so far.  Her pout when it ended too soon was definitely undignified, but she didn’t care.  The calloused pad of Ben’s thumb traced her protruding bottom lip, and she bit down on the tip of it playfully.  The hand still resting on her bare knee squeezed, and inched up her leg until he reached the hem of her shorts.  “How...how did Romeo know?”  The fact that she was the reason his voice shook was  _ intoxicating _ .

“You and I both know very well that I have zero poker face, and he’s never been shy about calling anyone out.”

“True,” Ben agreed.  His eyes fell to where his fingers were tracing lazy shapes into her thigh, and Rosaline was sure her skin was on fire.  She hated to admit just how right her cousin’s boyfriend had been...it had taken next to nothing for them to realize that all of the energy they spent pushing against one another could be put to  _ much _ better use, and as soon as she stopped trying to hate him, she could see how much she’d actually come to genuinely  _ like _ him.  “You’re thinking too loud again,” he murmured, leaning in to shield her from the view of anyone who might be watching as his fingers slid under her hemline and brushed against her center.  Rosaline sank her teeth into her bottom lip to hold back a whimper, and he pressed his forehead against her temple.  Thinking was  _ definitely _ not a problem after that. “It killed me to watch some idiot touch you the way I’d been dreaming of touching you,” he breathed into her ear.  “When he tried to go too far and you stopped him...and then had the audacity to taunt me...that’s when I realized how much of a moron I’d been.”

“Better late than never,” she replied simply, unable to come up with a witty response with the way his fingers were chasing away her ability to function.  Rosaline grabbed his shoulder and yanked him closer to kiss him, and in so doing jerked his hand against her.  Her yelp was captured with a sweep of Ben’s tongue, and he lingered for a moment before drawing back.  “If we don’t get out of here, we’re going to get arrested for public indecency.”  If he kept touching her, she was going to come apart...and if the fact that he’d only withdrawn his hand to the point that his fingers were not  _ in _ her shorts anymore was any indication, he wouldn’t stop touching her anytime soon.

“Something to check off my bucket list.”  The smirk on his face let her know that he was  _ kind of _ joking.  She pushed against his chest to move him far enough away to regain her wits. “I was  _ kidding _ , Capulet-”

“I wasn’t,  _ Montague. _ ”  Rosaline pulled out her phone, and had to use one hand to hold him back when he processed the meaning behind her words and his pout turned into a predatory grin.  She texted Juliet,  _ staying at the Montague’s, see you tomorrow _ , and then turned to face Ben fully.  “Are you able to drive?”  He considered it for a moment and then shook his head.  “Romeo can take your car home, then...neither of them have had much to drink tonight.  We could use some fresh air anyway.”

Ben was quick to scramble out of the booth and tug her along with him.  Both took a moment to breathe and laugh when his excitement had her stumbling against his chest.  Rosaline only allowed herself to give him a peck on the lips before lacing her fingers with his and pulling him towards the door.  They passed Romeo and Juliet on the way, and Mercutio clapped Ben proudly on the back, and then they were free.  Cool air felt like heaven on Rosaline’s hot skin, and she slowed to a stop for a moment to enjoy it.  She closed her eyes and sighed happily.

“God, you’re breathtaking.”  His blue eyes were swirling with emotion, and she found herself inexplicably nervous as he held her gaze.  “I’ve never seen you look so...peaceful.”

“Maybe there was always something missing before.”  The raw honesty in her admission surprised her, and clearly surprised Ben too.  He cradled her face in both hands and overwhelmed her with a desperate kiss.

“What the hell took me so long?”

“I think we were having a little too much fun trying to prove who hated who more,” Rosaline pointed out.  She took his hand once more, and they started walking in the direction of the apartment he shared with Romeo.  

“And here we could have been having even  _ more _ fun one-upping each other in much more  _ pleasurable _ ways.”  Images of them doing just that played across her mind, and Rosaline chewed on her bottom lip.  “You’re going to have to stop that if you want us to make it back to my place,” he growled.  

“Can’t restrain yourself for twenty minutes, Montague?”  She slid her hand from his and dragged her nails slowly up the inside of his wrist.  

“I’m not the one who was worried about public indecency after getting a little too eager at the bar, sweetheart.”  His breath was hot on her neck, and his hand slipped around her waist - and under the denim of her shorts - to pull her against his side.  She knew she was in trouble when he began to knead the skin just inside her hipbone.  The fire at her core that had eased to smoldering at the start of their walk was stoked once more.  Her own hand stroked down his back, pushed his shirt out of the way, and dipped into his pants to squeeze his ass firmly.  

Benvolio’s breath stuttered.  His eyes darted around them, for what she couldn’t be bothered to look, and she giggled when he abruptly pulled her against his chest and moved them around the corner of the nearest building.  Before she could react Rosaline was crowded into a little alcove and pressed against the wall.  Any words she might’ve come up with to tease him disappeared, when he stole her breath with a passionate kiss.  His body was flush against her from shoulder to knee, and even though she knew she couldn’t move if she wanted to, she clung to his back like a lifeline.  A small voice in the back of her mind told her that this was something she would  _ never _ typically do, but the heady excitement of finally having this man in her arms silenced it.  Benvolio Montague brought out many things in her, and this one was nothing if not exhilarating.

His tongue pushed between her lips and traced the roof of her mouth before she could regain herself, and he sighed into her when she fought him for dominance.  He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled it, and Rosaline couldn’t suppress a whimper.  Her hands began exploring the bare skin of his back under his shirt, and when she drew her nails down either side of his spine he shuddered.  “Capulet,” he growled.  Rosaline dropped her head back against the wall, dragging in heaving breaths and watching him through hooded eyes.  Benvolio looked to be warring with himself, his own breathing ragged and eyes nearly black with want.  Public indecency be damned...whatever it was he wanted to do, she would meet him in the middle.  With a wicked grin, she licked her lips slowly, and immediately achieved the desired effect.  He watched the movement and stopped breathing for a beat.  “Fuck it.”

Rosaline’s triumphant giggle was swallowed just as he rocked his pelvis against hers, pressing her hard into the wall, and she gave a needy moan.  One hand came to rest beside her head on the wall, and the other slid into the low-cut collar of her shirt to knead her breast for a moment.  She hummed in pleasure, arching her back and pressing herself further into his touch, and his hips pressed into her again.  “Ben…”

“Yes, Ros?” he replied, voice husky.  He sucked on her earlobe until she writhed against him, and then nuzzled her cheek with his nose.  His hand slipped from her shirt, and she glared at him half-heartedly.  “Tell me what you want, Capulet.”

“Don’t stop touching me.”  She couldn’t be bothered to care about the pleading tone of her voice.  He certainly didn’t seem to mind as he eagerly obeyed.  His hand splayed across her stomach for a moment before teasing her navel.  As his fingers worked, he pressed kisses along her jaw and face, smiling all the while.  When his finger snuck into the waist of her shorts and dragged a line of fire across her belly, her entire body tensed and he froze.

“Is this okay?”

The concern and sincerity in his eyes nearly did her in.  “ _ God _ , yes…”

The adoring, sultry, practically predatory gleam in his eyes held her captivated as he took a half step back to give himself some space, and immediately she missed the warmth of his weight against her.  Ben tucked a knee between hers, and he hesitated only a moment before unhooking the button of her shorts.  He drew the zipper down torturously slow, smug as he watched her squirm.  Once the zipper was all the way down, he ghosted his fingers over her core, and Rosaline could have cried in frustration.  She tried to press her hips forward, but he immediately drew back.  “Patience, love.”

Once she allowed her body to relax back against the wall, he pressed a tender kiss to her lips.  Even once he pulled back, it was only enough to break the kiss.  His nose brushed against hers, and they shared the same breath.  His eyes studied her face for a long moment until he apparently found what he was seeking, and  _ finally _ he ended her torture.  Deft fingers slid into her panties, and stroked into her firmly.  Rosaline inhaled sharply, and released it in a shaky huff as her eyes drifted shut and she surrendered herself to what Benvolio was making her feel.

At first his touch was slow, superficial, enough to make her lightheaded but not nearly enough to bring her over the edge.  He would tease her, brushing over her clit and then focusing his ministrations elsewhere.  She could feel his eyes on her, watching her reactions,  _ learning _ what she most enjoyed.  Several times he brought her nearly to the brink, until she was whimpering and biting down on her lip, and then eased up to allow her to settle back down. When she fisted her hands at his belt loops, he grinned and leaned towards her ear.  “Is this  _ fun enough _ for you?”

Her eyes snapped open with a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, but he effectively silenced it when he slid a finger inside of her.  Her moan echoed in the alley, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.  If anything, the thought of being caught with his hand in her shorts and his tongue stroking into her mouth to the rhythm of his finger heightened the intensity of their tryst that much more. When he slid a second finger in alongside the first, Rosaline’s knees buckled and she sank down until his thigh pressed up to brace her, and the heel of his hand was caught between them. The newfound stimulation to her bundle of nerves had her seeing stars, and her hips jerked involuntairly.  

“Oh God, Ben…”

“I’ve got you, Ros,” he vowed tenderly, pressing kisses to her temple as he continued to stroke into her and rock his hand against her clit.  Her muscles clenched around his fingers, and he smiled.  “That’s my girl, I've got you, come for me sweetheart.”  She was grateful that he had the presence of mind to kiss her again and muffle her cry as she did just as he asked, because in that moment she couldn’t register anything beyond the waves of pleasure crashing over her.  

When she came back into awareness, Ben’s arm was wrapped around her shoulders and his other hand was just finishing up with refastening her shorts.  She pulled his head down for a loving kiss.  “We should probably hurry back to your place...the things I want to do to you right now require something a little more secluded than an alleyway.”

They made it back in record time, and amazed themselves with just  _ how much more productive _ they could be when they used their passion towards each other for good instead of evil.  


	7. Commonplace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Montague discovers Benvolio's plan to help Rosaline escape...and Rosaline discovers one of Benvolio's darker secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently I have a thing for beating up on poor Ben, emotionally and physically. This is based on the clip in the original series promo, where Lord Montague strikes Benvolio while he's on his knees. And of course, I couldn't resist dipping into the Ben, Romeo and Mercutio feels. Hope you guys like it!

Benvolio rightly should have been used to his uncle’s wrath.  Since he was old enough to  _ be _ a disappointment, Lord Montague had seen fit to direct any of his frustration to the boy he’d taken in as an orphan, in lieu of punishing his only son and heir.  After Romeo’s death, Damiano’s rage had grown tenfold.  He suspected that his uncle’s restraint now was due to the Prince’s attention; it would not do to have his remaining heir present with blackened eyes and bloodied lips. Because if that, his uncle would often limit his abuse to his arms and torso when he was feeling particularly angry.

He  _ should _ have been used to it by now...and yet he was presently unable determine whether the blow to his stomach or fresh reminder of his loneliness caused greater pain.  Benvolio pushed himself to his knees before his uncle, and could do nothing more than watch as the man drew back his arm.  The force of the blow rattled his teeth and left his ears ringing, and Benvolio barely managed to catch himself before his face connected with the cold stone floor.  He should have known that his uncle would find out about the offer he made to Rosaline at the picnic...not that it mattered now, considering she had not taken the carriage after all.  That fact did little to ease his uncle’s wrath.

The pain burning his cheek vaulted him back to another time, years ago...a somehow simpler time, despite the chaos of the memory.  

\--

_ “Stop! Father! What in God’s name are you doing?!”  Benvolio grimaced at his cousin’s horrified voice.  Damiano’s fingers tightened around his throat, and suddenly he could not breathe.  His fingers scrabbled against his uncle’s, but the man’s grip was too tight, his eyes wild with fury.  “Stop, or you shall kill him!” _

_ “Lord Montague, release your nephew or I shall report this to my uncle!”  Mercutio’s hand was tight on the man’s shoulder, knuckles white and trembling.  Benvolio met his eyes, and his friend growled before yanking Damiano backwards.  Romeo caught his cousin when he was finally released, bracing him as Benvolio coughed violently and dragged in heaving breaths.  Agony throbbed behind his eyes, but still he straightened and turned to watch his friend push his uncle out of the room.  It wasn’t often that Mercutio flaunted his status as a member of the royal family, and the look on Damiano’s face as he rounded the corner warned Benvolio of further punishment once they were alone again. _

_ Romeo ushered Benvolio to a chair, lifted his chin to inspect his throat.  “What the hell was that all about?  He looked like he was ready to kill you!” _

_ When the elder cousin tried to reply, he fell into a fit of coughing.  Already his neck was swelling.  After taking a moment to breathe through the pain, he tried once more.  “I refused to court a Grimauldi maiden.”   _

_ “What?” _

_ “She wore a face of terror when she was introduced...I would not be the reason behind such fear.”  The loud clatter of the door slamming startled Benvolio, and Romeo shot Mercutio a chastising look. _

_ “Forgive me, Ben.  You mean to tell me that this,” Mercutio knelt down and tenderly lifted Benvolio’s chin much like Romeo had, eyes tracing what the younger man could only assume were blossoming bruises, “was your punishment for refusing to be party to forcing an innocent woman into marriage against her will?”  Mercutio’s thumb brushed against the sensitive skin of his throat, and Benvolio’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment.  “The Prince must know of this.” _

_ “No!” Benvolio rasped, hand coming up to clutch at Mercutio’s.  “Informing His Grace would only enrage him further.  Just...I can bear this so long as I have the two of you.” _

_ Two pairs of dark eyes studied him, and Mercutio growled.  “You speak as if this is commonplace, Benvolio…” _

_ Romeo’s eyes pleaded with his cousin to refute their friend’s claim, but Benvolio could not.  “Mother of God…” _

_ “Look, he-” _

_ “So help me, if you defend his actions-” _

_ “Hush; Ben, you need to relax your voice.  Mercutio, easy,” Romeo insisted.  With a shaky sigh, Mercutio wrapped his hand around the back of Benvolio’s neck and brought their foreheads together.  Benvolio, finally accepting the reality that his brothers knew his dark secret, allowed the tears to slide down his cheeks unchecked.  Romeo’s hand settled on his shoulder, and Mercutio kneaded his neck. _

\--

A sharp crack and an explosion of pain in his chest brought Benvolio back to reality, and he curled in on himself as his uncle drew his foot back to deliver another vicious blow. “You are a disgrace to the name Montague, and to the memory of my son!”

“Stop!”  Both Montague men looked up at the cry, and Benvolio cursed under his breath. Rosaline stood beside one of the house servants, eyes wide with shock.  Damiano took a step away from his nephew, and Rosaline rushed forward to position herself between the men.  Benvolio wrapped an arm around his chest and gingerly levered himself to sitting.  He watched as Rosaline grew tense, fists clenching in rage.  

“Move out of my way,  _ girl _ .”  Lord Montague took a menacing step back towards her, and every protective instinct inside of Benvolio kicked in.  Pushing through the agony in his chest, he used the half wall behind him to pull himself up, and gently tugged Rosaline behind him.

“I’ll not fight when you lash out at me, Uncle, but you will  _ not _ lay a hand on my fiancee.”  Damiano stalked towards him until they were nose to nose, and it took everything in Benvolio not to flinch away.  Rosaline’s hand gripped his elbow, but she did not interfere, for which he was grateful.

“Need I remind you, nephew, that this marriage is a sham?  A facade that neither of you actually wanted any part of?  And yet you stand here as though you genuinely  _ care _ for this woman you called  _ harpy _ ?”  When his nephew did not respond, Lord Montague sneered.  “Everything you touch turns to ash,  _ boy _ .  If you have gone and fallen for this Capulet harlot, you’d do well to pray that she is not next.”

His uncle’s words stole the breath from his chest, and he dropped his gaze so that the man could not see how affected he was.  “If you are quite finished,  _ my lord _ , I have come to speak to my betrothed,” Rosaline snapped, stepping up alongside Benvolio.  “Excuse us.”  She curtseyed, and led Benvolio by the elbow down the stairs and out into the street.  

-

As soon as he was outside of the gates, Benvolio sagged against Rosaline with a pained sigh.  She smoothly tucked herself under his arm and guided him to a secluded garden, listening to the hitch in each breath and worrying over the extent of his injuries.

“I thank you, milady.  I’d not have blamed you for turning away when you arrived.”  Her fiance’s voice was tight, and he hissed in pain when she eased him down onto a bench.

“And when have you known me to shy away from a challenge, Montague?  Where are you injured?”  She looked over him, somewhat placated when she saw no wounds.

He watched her silently for a moment, and Rosaline half expected him to deny any weakness.  An eyebrow raised impatiently compelled him to respond.  “It is difficult to breathe,” he admitted, pressing a hand to his ribs with a grimace.  She nodded and reached out, her unspoken request granted immediately.  

Careful fingers unfastened his leather doublet and opened it, giving her access to his tunic-covered chest.  Remembering what Livia taught her about measuring the extent of damage to a patient’s ribs, she tested Benvolio’s gingerly.  She was relieved to determine that only one rib was cracked, none of them fully broken.  “The damage is minimal, milord.  Unfortunately there is nothing to be done for it but give it time, but it should not take long to repair itself.”

Benvolio nodded with a wince, and settled his hand over his injury once more.  “Thank you, Rosaline.”  She smiled warmly at him, but felt it fall as she watched him become distant.

“What brought on your uncle’s wrath?”

His wry smile concerned her...how was he so lighthearted about what just transpired?  “That, dear Rosaline, is not something that you need be concerned with.”

“If it involves my future husband, it is most certainly something with which I will concern myself!”  Benvolio chuckled affectionately, and lifted her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.  

“I assure you, it is not important.”  The tone in his voice told her that wanted to speak on it no more, so she relented.  “I am sorry that you had to witness that...but I have to beg of you, do not pursue the issue with my uncle.  Romeo himself was unsuccessful, and I will not be the reason that he attempts to bring you harm.”  Rosaline stared at Benvolio, shocked at the vulnerability and honesty in what he’d revealed to her.  No matter how desperately she wanted to ask him of the prior incidents he’d referenced, she knew that it had taken much for him to reveal what he did, and that he would grant her access into this corner of his life when he was ready.  She, of all people, could appreciate the need to withhold such a dark secret as long as possible.


	8. Camaraderie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern!AU in the same thread as Migraine and Sugar Water (set before both). Rosaline connects some dots after Benvolio reacts strongly to his uncle one day, and the two find a surprising camaraderie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, there's a scene in the show Snatch where Lucien Laviscount's character gets a bit defensive over his best friend when his father lashes out at him, and is stopped from stepping in, and it gave me major modern!au protective!romeo feels. Just had to say that.
> 
> Second of all, this is something I originally wasn't going to post tonight, because it refers quite a bit to another part that I haven't written yet. I'm going to, at some point, put the scenes for this particular AU into their own work, but I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to handle the fact that they are currently all over the place chronologically and will probably stay that way until I am finished with the AU. Anyways, after re-reading it, I decided that it (hopefully) makes enough sense to share with you guys. I thoroughly enjoyed the bit of bonding between them, I hope it came across to you as well as it did in my head.

“Words can’t express how much I need this weekend away from school,” Juliet sighed.

“Oh please, you’re just excited for a weekend to suck face with your boyfriend without hearing your mother’s complaints about his family,” Rosaline retorted with a grin.  Her cousin scoffed indignantly, and shoved at her shoulder.  “Hey!  Driving here!”

“Seriously, Jules, I for one would like to see my boyfriend again before I die,” Livia added.

“Speaking of...is Paris at Romeo’s place?”  When Rosaline glanced at her sister in the rearview mirror, she couldn’t help but smile at the excitement on Livia’s face.  It was about time her sister found someone who would treat her right.

By the time they pulled up to the house where Romeo and Benvolio lived with Romeo’s dad, even Rosaline was practically vibrating with anticipation to hit the beach.  She honked twice, and chuckled when Mercutio bounded out to meet them.  Paris wasn’t far behind, an amused grin on his face which spread when his eyes fell on Livia.

Romeo and Benvolio followed a moment later, and Juliet jumped out to throw her arms around her boyfriend’s neck.  Rosaline rolled her eyes and watched Benvolio do the same with no malice in his eyes.  

“ _ Benvolio!” _ The shout came from inside the house, and the Capulet watched as the young man in question flinched involuntarily, jaw clenching and eyes closing once he straightened again.  Rosaline’s eyes narrowed, following his retreat until the door closed behind him.  As they waited she thought back on the years she’d known him...and came to a nauseating realization: Benvolio Montague was most certainly not the type to be skittish, but she  _ had _ seen him so jumpy one other time, when Mercutio and Romeo had brought him to her bloodied and withdrawn.   _ The same man _ who’d given him those injuries had just commanded him with a single word.

A quick glance around told Rosaline that the girls were too focused on their boyfriends to notice.  Mercutio, though, had made it halfway out of the SUV before Romeo caught his arm with a solemn look.  The dark-haired man settled back into his seat, eyes shifting for a moment to the empty seat beside him as if it would make Ben magically appear.  The worry in Mercutio’s eyes left Rosaline uneasy, and she breathed the same sigh of relief as both he and Romeo did when the door opened again and Ben jogged out to the van looking no worse for wear.

“Sorry guys, he just wanted a last minute refresher of our plans.  Ready to roll, Ros.”  She nodded with a forced smile.  Juliet squealed with excitement, and Livia chuckled at her antics.  They hit the road without further ado, chattering easily amongst each other.  Once they were on the highway, Rosaline chanced a look in her rearview mirror and locked eyes with Benvolio.  She searched his face in the mirror, and understanding dawned in his eyes.  He sighed with a rueful grin, and finally looked away, and Rosaline focused her attention back on the road.  Mercutio’s low tenor reached her ears, but she could not decipher his words.

Livia engaged Rosaline and Juliet in a conversation about how they would spend the next three days, and all thoughts of her revelation were pushed aside by all parties; it did not take long for the guys to get involved in the decision-making process, and even less time for it to become a debate.  The playful bickering passed the time, and before Rosaline knew it they’d reached their destination.  She glanced in the rearview mirror as she parked, and couldn’t decipher the look in Ben’s eyes.

She took her time getting out of the vehicle while the others gathered on the sidewalk.  Romeo hooked an arm around Juliet’s shoulders and gestured for the group to head up to the Boardwalk.  Paris and Livia agreed eagerly, and Mercutio pushed at Benvolio’s shoulder playfully, clearly eager to distract him, but the Montague’s eyes turned to Rosaline.  

“You guys get the fun started... _ Mom  _ and  _ Dad _ need to talk for a minute first.”  His response surprised her; she’d expected him to play it off, to sweep it under the rug.  The  _ last _ thing she was expecting was for him to be the one to confront her about it.  Romeo and Mercutio were just as surprised, and the latter sent her a look that warned her in no uncertain terms not to abuse the trust his best friend was apparently placing in her.  Romeo glanced between the two for a moment before Juliet tugged him away, and just like that, they were alone.

Rosaline watched silently as Benvolio came around and sat back against the hood of her SUV.  He crossed his arms over his chest as if to protect himself, and she cursed the man who left him feeling vulnerable around his friends.  Resting her own hip against the hood, Rosaline faced him and intentionally kept her posture open to him.  “It was him, that night…” she murmured after a stretch of silence.  “ _ He _ was the reason you were afraid to go to the hospital.”  Ben bit the inside of his cheek, eyes fixed on the ground.  Guilt stabbed at her when Rosaline thought back on the assumptions she’d made about what he’d done to earn the beating.  “ _ Christ Almighty, _ Ben, I said such horrible things to you…”

“It’s okay, Ros-”

“ _ No _ ,” she hissed, before taking a sharp breath to calm herself.  The last thing Ben needed was to have someone else snap at him, especially when  _ he _ wasn’t the one she was mad at.  “No, Ben...it’s not.  I’ve known you for  _ years _ ...I have seen your character.  I know who you are...and yet I perpetuated a reputation facilitated by that son of a bitch.”  Ben turned sad blue eyes to her, and she felt tears pooling in her own.  “I’m so sorry.  Why didn’t you  _ correct _ me?  Mercutio certainly tried...why did you stop him?”

Arms finally relaxing, Ben ran a hand through his hair and gave her a knowing look.  Rosaline didn’t like the way it felt as though he was staring right through her...and yet could she truly be surprised?  For the first time, she was starting to see just how well they knew one another...how well they  _ understood  _ one another.  “Probably for the same reason that you don’t tell anyone that your migraines are entirely linked to your aunt.”

Rosaline gave a soft huff of bemused laughter.  “Touche.” No one had ever connected those dots before...partly because she rarely told Juliet or Livia about the encounters they were not around to see.  It was easy to say that she had no clue where her migraine came from when they didn’t know she’d been slapped around a bit while they were out at the store, or that their aunt had thrown another monkey wrench into some plan or another.  It made sense that it would take someone who hid some of his own abuse from his loved ones, to recognize her truth.  She looked up at him, gathering her courage and her wits.  “I want you to know that I am here for you, Benvolio.”  He canted his head curiously, but remained silent.  “I understand not wanting to tell your cousin or Mercutio what you’re feeling, what your uncle does on any given day...because sometimes they have no idea what you’re facing.  Their hearts are in the right place...but because you’ve done such a good job of protecting them from what you have to deal with, they can’t fully understand.  Any time you don’t feel like you can put Romeo through the grief, or talk Mercutio down from coming to your defense...if you need me, I’m there. I don’t care what time, what day, what’s going on...if you need a place to go, if you need someone to vent to, I want you to come to me.”

The vehemence in her voice surprised both of them, if the smile fighting to surface on Ben’s face was any indication.  He nodded, eyes holding hers.  “That goes both ways,” he murmured.  Rosaline smiled warmly at him, and they fell into companionable silence for a moment...which of course he had to shatter.  “Who would’ve thunk it,” he crooned, crossing his arms once more.  He rocked himself away from the SUV and came to stand in front of her.  “A Montague and a Capulet who actually  _ get _ one another.  Now...we should probably catch up with the kids before they get into too much trouble.”  He winked at her, and she could read the sincerity behind his bravado.  They’d found an understanding and camaraderie in one another...a bond that, despite the malice at it’s center, she found herself grateful for.  He gestured towards the boardwalk with his head, and grinned at her when she shook her head with a chuckle and followed.


	9. Paddling Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang goes paddleboarding, and Rosaline and Mercutio come to a bit of an understanding. Set between Migraine and Sugar Water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a struggle for some reason, so please forgive any problems or discrepancies. At some point I am *going* to put the stories for this AU in one thread...but it is not this day.
> 
> ((less than 24 hours until these two goofballs grace our screens again!!!! Please feel free to come squeal with me on Tumblr: Misfitwriter is my main blog, Cookieswriting is my writing sideblog.))

“Come on, lazy bums!  We are not wasting half of the day because you wouldn’t get out of bed!”

Rosaline sipped at her coffee with an amused grin on her face, watching her boyfriend over the rim of her mug.   _ Boyfriend _ .  Even after three weeks, she couldn’t quite believe that it was real...that she was in a relationship with Benvolio Montague.  Somehow the transition from friends to lovers had been seamless.

And yet, she realized as he winked at her and disappeared down the hall to rouse their friends, maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise.  Rosaline listened to the groans of protest from Mercutio from the living room, and Romeo and Juliet from her cousin’s room.  Livia was the only one who padded into the kitchen before Benvolio returned, clearly already up and moving before he’d called for them.  

“Morning, Liv,” she greeted warmly.  

“How are you so  _ chipper _ this morning?” Livia grumbled.  The answering grin on Rosaline’s face spoke for itself as she remembered her own - much more pleasant - wakeup call, and the younger Capulet pretended to gag.  “Ugh, nevermind, spare me the details.”  Both girls started giggling.  

“Care to let me in on the fun?” Benvolio whispered, sliding his arms around her waist from behind and settling his chin on her shoulder.  Rosaline nuzzled her cheek against his, enjoying the scratch of his beard against her skin.  His fingers played with the hem of her tank top and left her wishing that they were still tangled up in her bed.

“Seems like you two are having plenty of your own fun this morning,” Mercutio teased lightly, pouring coffee for himself and Livia who accepted her mug with a grateful kiss to his cheek.  “No Paris today, Ollie?”

“The fact that you gave me coffee is the only reason I’m not smacking you right now...you  _ know _ how much I hate it when you call me that!  And no, Paris couldn’t get out of some family business stuff today.”

“That sucks, sorry Livia,” Juliet commented.  She and Romeo joined the others in the kitchen, Romeo snatching the mug from Mercutio’s hand with a smirk and Juliet pouring herself a fresh mug.  Rosaline watched her friends slowly come alive as their coffee kicked in.  Mercutio started making mass quantities of eggs and bacon, shooing the other late risers to get showers.  Ben pressed a tender kiss to her temple before joining his best friend.  

“Scoot over, let me help.”  The mop of curly black hair flopped over Mercutio’s forehead when he glanced over, complying without hesitation.  Ben took over preparing the bacon as Mercutio finished the eggs, and Rosaline looked on with an affectionate grin.  They worked around one another effortlessly, a reflection of the depth of their relationship.  Mercutio hip-checked Ben hard, chuckling when the latter snapped a hand out to catch the former’s waist to keep himself upright.  Rosaline shook her head at their antics; Ben’s reaction was practically reflex, so clearly this was something of  _ theirs _ that she’d been allowed to share in.  

She soaked in anything she could of these moments, the glimpses into the hearts of Benvolio and those he loved most.  For too long she’d not paid attention to them, too caught up in her disdain for their family to see the unconditional love and devotion they shared.  She  _ knew _ it existed, of course...had heard as much from Juliet when she first met Romeo.  But now, she got to witness that loyalty in action every day, and it comforted her to know that he had never been alone.  

“If my bacon gets burnt, Mercutio, I am holding you entirely responsible...and you do  _ not _ want to be responsible for burning my bacon.”  Benvolio flashed her a charming smile before resuming his duties.  Mercutio raised a challenging brow, and for an instant Rosaline was unsure if she’d overstepped the boundaries of her somewhat new relationship with her boyfriend’s best friend.  

He silenced her worry, though, with a chuckle and a wink before turning back to Ben.  “It’s about time you found yourself someone who appreciates bacon as much as you do,” he teased.

“ _ And _ someone who’s not afraid to put  _ you _ in your place when necessary.  Huge bonus, there,” Benvolio retorted. __ Drawn by the heavenly scent of crispy meat Rosaline finally stood to join the boys at the stove.  With a sidelong glance at her, Ben lifted a perfectly-cooked strip of bacon from the skillet and offered it to her.  Rosaline took it gleefully, and immediately tore it in half and held it out for him to take.  He bit into the meat with a hum of appreciation, and then kissed her cheek.

“Oi! There’d better be some left for the rest of us! Don’t think I didn’t see that, Ros!” They glanced back to the doorway to see Romeo, clad only in swim trunks, watching them with accusing eyes.

“Cook’s treat!” Ben insisted.  “There’s plenty anyways, sit down and finish your coffee, it’s not quite ready yet.”  His cousin complied with a grumble, which earned him a strange look when Juliet joined them.  By the time Livia made it out, Mercutio and Ben were ready to serve the meal.  

“Remind me again where we are going?” Mercutio asked once everyone was settled and eating.

“Verona Lake.  It’s got a bunch of streams that you can explore by paddle boards...I figured it would be a good way for everyone to unwind now that finals are done. A day out on the water, close enough to home to be back in time to order pizza and wings for dinner.”  The group mumbled their approval around mouthfuls of food.  

It didn’t take them long to finish up and get loaded up into Rosaline’s SUV, Benvolio at the wheel.  Their fingers tangled together, resting over the gear shifter.  His thumb idly traced over the back of her hand, and she smiled affectionately at him before turning her attention to the back of the vehicle.  Juliet, Mercutio and Romeo were singing along to the latest Bruno Mars, and Livia was recording them on her phone.  Her sister turned the camera towards the front, and Rosaline blew a kiss.

By the time they made it to the lake, the video was uploaded to Instagram and Facebook, and Rosaline’s phone was pinging with notifications every few seconds.  She finally glanced through them while they waited to rent the paddleboards, and rolled her eyes.  “Seriously?  You guys are standing right next to each other.”

“Paris isn’t here,” Livia pointed out with a pout.  Rosaline re-read the comments, and couldn’t help a smile.  The first thing he’d noticed was the lack of his girlfriend in the video, and he’d insisted that they make sure she wasn’t the only one behind the camera during their adventures.

“Okay, I think this one might be a keeper, Liv.”  Ben read through the interaction over her shoulder; his smirk was his own unspoken stamp of approval.  Livia beamed at both of them, and Benvolio swiped a hand out to ruffle her hair affectionately.  The youngest Capulet ducked under his reach, only to shove at his shoulder and dart after the others, now further ahead in the line.  Rosaline chuckled warmly as she looped her arm through Benvolio’s and tugged him to catch up.

Once they were out on the water, the boys got caught up in a battle of  _ who can knock who off their board first _ .  The girls stayed back at a safe distance, providing commentary and struggling to keep their balance when they would start to laugh so hard they couldn’t stay upright.  Juliet’s laughter cut off abruptly when she realized Romeo had honed in on her.  Despite her attempts to flee, the younger Montague latched onto her paddle and yanked her off-balance before she could let it go.  Rosaline giggled until a hand wrapped around her ankle.

“Shouldn’t let your guard down, Capulet...bound to get you in trouble.”  She looked under her arm to see mischievous blue eyes sparkling up at her.  His free hand was braced against her board, and she knew it would only take the slightest movement to send her into the water.

“Do it, and I’ll make you regret it, Montague.”

The second the words crossed her lips, she knew they were the exact  _ wrong _ ones to keep her dry.  Benvolio’s eyes darkened, taking on a dangerous gleam, and his fingers tightened for an instant.  “Is that supposed to be a threat, or a  _ promise _ ?”  Rosaline yelped as her world tilted, and sucked in a deep breath just before colliding with the surface of the water.  Ben tugged her ankle, wrapping her leg around his waist and only letting her go when she took his lead and hooked her other leg around him as well.  She felt his strong legs kicking and pulled herself upright with a hand on his shoulder, finally breaking the surface once more.  “Hey,” he breathed, face inches from hers.  Strong arms framed her, his hands keeping a firm hold of her board.  Rosaline settled her elbows alongside his hands, giving her some more leverage, but she did not release his waist.

“Don’t you  _ hey _ me, mister.  I told you, I’m going to make you regret that.”  She couldn’t say why she was whispering, but she knew her threat was falling utterly flat.  Try as she might, he’d already twisted her words into a tantalizing promise, and she knew it would be useless to try to play it off as anything else.  

“And I’m counting the hours until you do, love.”  She couldn’t smother a grin at his retort, and attempted to cover it up by pressing her lips to his in a wet kiss.  He hummed contentedly against her, and she eased her arms back off of the board so that she could wrap them around his neck.  Her tongue dragged pressed against his lips, which had just parted for her when a shock of cold water left them sputtering and scrambling for the board that was now drifting away.  Benvolio wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her above water until she unhooked her legs and turned herself around in his grasp.  

Mercutio and Livia were perched on their respective boards, the former with a wicked grin and his paddle raised, giving away that he’d just slapped a minor wave of water in their direction.  “If you’re quite finished, the rest of us are going to get to that exploring you promised.  Get on with it, will you?” 

“Don’t mind ‘Cutio,” Romeo called from further across the lake. “He’s just mad that the guy he tried flirting with ignored him.” Rosaline rolled her eyes at them, but lifted herself back onto her board nonetheless.  Benvolio watched her with a hungry stare, but she shoved him towards his own board with a wink.  Once he finally turned away from her, she pushed to her feet and turned to watch Ben haul himself up, shamelessly appreciating how the water glistened on his toned body.  

“You’ve got a bit of drool, just there,” Juliet teased from beside her.  Rosaline raised a brow at her before gesturing towards Romeo.

“And you have no room to judge, Jules.  I’m not going to apologize for appreciating a pretty view once in awhile.”  Her cousin giggled, unable to argue, and took a moment to  _ appreciate _ her own boyfriend.  Romeo caught her staring, and immediately began flexing his arms dramatically. While he was distracted, Benvolio paddled up behind him quietly and nudged his cousin’s shoulder with the blade of his paddle.  The wounded look on Romeo’s face as he fell was priceless.  “You should probably watch your back around him now, Montague...he did  _ not _ look happy.”

“I guess we’d better get on with our exploring!” Ben was quick to paddle out of his cousin’s reach, heading for the nearest inlet to explore.  Livia followed with an amused smile, and their cousins followed suit - Romeo with particular enthusiasm to catch up and get his revenge.  Rosaline hung back for a moment, watching her closest friends and family laugh and tease and play, and was overwhelmed with joy.  For so long, she’d wished desperately for her family to be ‘normal’, to be able to feel the love and support she remembered from her parents before they were ripped away.  She wished for a  _ home _ , a safe place to land no matter what chaos was going on around her...and she’d found it.  Unconventional as it might be, frowned-upon by her aunt and uncle as it might be, her  _ home _ was this mess of people who understood and adored one another in spite of everything...it was the security of being wrapped in Ben’s arms, knowing that she could handle anything that came up with his support.

A light tap against her board drew Rosaline from her thoughts, and she looked over to see Mercutio watching her with an uncharacteristically warm smile on his face.  “I wanted to thank you,” he stated.  Rosaline gaped at him for a moment, eyes searching his face for any sign that he was screwing with her.

“F-for what?”

Mercutio chuckled and turned his eyes to Benvolio.  “I’ve known Ben for a long time...and I’ve never seen him as...at peace as he is now.  He...he’s always been good at putting on a brave face, but he always reminded me of a duck.”

“ _ Duck? _ ” 

“Calm on the surface, but kicking like crazy to stay afloat under the surface.  Ben...Ben always felt the need to protect us from what his uncle did.  He never admitted it, but I know that he did.”  He looked back over at her, and she felt the weight of his words settle onto her shoulders.  “Ever since you figured out what was going on though...he’s just... _ settled _ .  He’s not kicking so frantically anymore.  And since you two got together?” He shook his head with a grin.  “It’s not a front anymore.  It’s like he’s lost this huge burden that Rome and I were never able to help him carry.  I don’t know what it is, why he’s different with you...I just know I’m grateful that you’re in his life.”

Without waiting for her reaction, Mercutio sent her a wink and paddled away, shouting after the others as though he hadn’t just been more serious than she’d ever seen him.  For a moment she remained still, stunned by his admission.  It wasn’t until her name echoed across the water that she was able to shake herself from her thoughts.  Ben waved her over, a hint of concern in his features as she caught up.

“Everything okay? You guys looked like you were having a pretty heavy conversation…”

Rosaline nodded with a tender smile.  “Everything’s perfect...I think we’ve come to a new understanding.”

“Is that so?”  

“Mhm,” she hummed softly, hooking the blade of her paddle into the bungee cord at the front of his board.  Ben chuckled when she pulled their boards together, balancing easily as they rocked.  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she willed herself to voice what was on her mind.  She needed to get it off her chest...he  _ deserved _ to hear it.  “He’s always been wary of me when it comes to you...but it seems like we turned a major corner today.  Bonding over someone that you both love tends to help with that.”

Benvolio stilled, and Rosaline worried that she’d crossed a line that he wasn’t ready to cross.  Tears of humiliation burned in her eyes, and she cleared her throat to give herself time to will them away.  “Ros…”

“We uh...we should probably catch up with the others…”

“Capulet,” Ben pressed, reaching for her paddle.  She couldn’t bear to look at him, didn’t want to see the depth of her screwup in his beautiful blue eyes. He managed to snag the end of her paddle, careful not to pull her off-balance as he tried to catch her attention.

“They’re going to get annoyed at us-”

“ _ Rosaline! _ ” Both his tone and the fact that he’d used her full name finally broke through her panic, and she looked up to see an exasperated smile on Ben’s face.  “I told them to go ahead and we’d catch up.”

“I’m sorry, I..I know it was too soon,” she whispered.  Fingers grazed her waist, bringing her fears to a grinding halt.  He held her in place, leaning in as far as he could without tipping over.

“We’ve known each other for years, Ros...you know parts of me that even Romeo and Mercutio don’t.  We may have only started  _ dating _ a few weeks ago, but you’ve been one of my best friends much longer than that.  Come here,” he murmured.  She bit her lip a sigh, and met him halfway for a tender kiss.  Ben pulled away to press his forehead to hers.  “I love you too, Ros.”


	10. On Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Prompt: Benvolio and Rosaline are not able to stop the wedding, but something changes in both of them when they kiss at the ceremony.
> 
> Inspired by Switchfoot's "On Fire"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this one out before the episode tonight likely changes the course of their lives. I'd been sitting on this prompt for a while, uninspired. Then I listened to Switchfoot's "On Fire" and, while it is completely out of context, the lyrics really spoke to me about Rosvolio. The bolded lines of text are the song lyrics. Hope you enjoy!

**_They tell you where you need to go, tell you when you’ll need to leave.  They tell you what you need to know, tell you who you need to be._ **

Despite all of their efforts, despite finally identifying the culprit behind the attacks, Escalus had remained firm in his demand for them to marry.   _ Can’t jeopardize the peace that had been established by revealing that it had all been a farce, after all _ , Rosaline thought to herself somewhat bitterly.  And so, she stood before all of Verona, adorned in white lace and jewels, and exchanged vows with Benvolio Montague.  As she gazed at her partner, she felt something inside of her soften.  Regardless of how much she railed against the marriage, far preferring a match of her own choosing rather than one arranged by the man she would’ve, once,  _ chosen _ ...the man before her had surprised her time and again.  

**_But everything inside you knows there’s more than what you’ve heard, there’s so much more than empty conversations, filled with empty words._ **

It had taken time, but he’d proven to her that he was  _ so much more _ than the man portrayed by rumor and reputation.  She was ashamed to admit that she’d allowed those rumors to shape her view of him at first.  Because of that, she kept him at a distance, allowed her hatred of his family to taint their time together for so long.  Not until they truly began to pursue their culprit did she recognize that she was being foolish...not until she allowed herself to consider that she might not have to marry him, did she see that there was more to him than a whoring drunkard of a Montague.  

“In conformity with your mutual declaration and pledges, and by the authority vested in me, and in the name of the Lord, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”  The announcement by the Friar pulled Rosaline from her thoughts, and she refocused her attention on her husband.  Benvolio’s gaze was steady, waiting for her permission before complying with his duty to seal their vows.  Warmth, something akin to affection, spread through her chest and she gave him a subtle nod.

**_And you’re on fire when he’s near you, you’re on fire when he speaks.  You’re on fire burning at these mysteries._ **

The newlywed couple came together hesitantly, carefully, and her heart was racing by the time their lips touched.  Part of her still ached to rebel against the forces commanding them to put on this spectacle, to free both of them, to give Benvolio the opportunity to find the love he so desperately sought.

And yet...with that first kiss, something new stirred in her.  A flicker of hope, a spark of...something dangerously close to love?  The pressure of his lips on hers was featherlight at first, just a breath, and she’s surprised by the sudden need for something  _ more _ .  All it took was lifting her chin, pushing her mouth against his more firmly, and his breath hitched in his chest.  His lips parted with a sigh, and Rosaline rested her hands against his chest to brace herself.

The feel of his tongue tracing her lip, tentative and curious, was intoxicating.  Emboldened by the way his hands tightened on her waist, she slipped her own tongue out to meet his and giggled softly in the back of her throat when her husband drew her ever closer.

Reality slammed into the couple in the form of the crowd’s roar of approval, and Rosaline broke the kiss.  He dropped his forehead to hers, blue gaze holding her captive as they both fought to catch their breath. One hand slid from her waist to wrap around her own, holding it close to his heart. Many of the same emotions swirling through her were reflected in his eyes, and for the first time, she believed that maybe they could  _ find _ the love they sought in one another.  For the first time, looking at a lifetime with him gave Rosaline an overwhelming sense of peace.

\--

**_Give me one more time around, give me one more chance to see.  Give me everything you are, give me one more chance to be near you.  When everything inside me looks like everything I hate, you are the hope I have for change.  You are the only chance I’ll take._ **

Following the ceremony, Benvolio felt as though he drifted through the feast and celebration.  His mind was replaying their first kiss as man and wife...first kiss  _ at all _ , and the altogether shocking emotions it ignited in him.  Rosaline getting under his skin hadn’t been a surprise; he’d accepted that she would likely continue surprising him until the day he died. It was the way she reacted to the kiss...her confident responses, the bright gleam in her eyes when they pulled back, the touch of her hands to his chest.  

Nothing could seem to ground him through the dancing except for  _ her _ , and she seemed to possess the same dazed look that Benvolio was sure he sported.  It took an effort to smile and bow and say the proper things, when the only thing he could think about was this paradigm shift that seemed to have taken place between them in the span of a single kiss.  All he wanted was to be alone with Rosaline, to determine what this meant for them.

That moment seemed to take ages to arrive, and when it finally did, Benvolio had no idea what to do with himself.  His only consolation as he hovered in the doorway, watching her fidget as she sat on the edge of their bed, was that she seemed just as anxious as him.  

“You need not worry, wife,” he murmured, finally stepping into the room.  Rosaline looked up at him, question clear in her eyes.  “I will be respectful of your wishes.  I care not what our uncles expect, I’ll not force you into something you do not want.”   _ Not when he can finally  _ give _ her the freedom to choose what she wants _ .  

“Oh,” Rosaline breathed, looking down at the hands still fidgeting in her lap.  He watched her curiously as she sighed.  “A-and...if my wish is to be with my husband?”

As the meaning of her words sank into his mind, Benvolio felt the breath escape his lungs.  With each step he took closer to her, he felt as though he were taking a step off the edge of a precipice, and at any moment he might begin to freefall.  “Rosaline…”

She didn’t look up until he stood before her, and he found himself wanting to drop to his knees.  Without a touch, without a word, she’d claimed utter control of his heart.  Before he could follow through with his thought, she rose from the bed and invaded his senses.  Her nearness set his nerves aflame, her scent left him lightheaded.  The hitch in her breathing overwhelmed him, and the desire in her eyes broke down the last of his hesitation.  Benvolio hauled her against his chest, and allowed himself to drown in the taste of his wife.   _ His wife...his.   _ He could not hope to understand why God deemed him worthy to be bound to this strong, passionate, brave,  _ beautiful _ woman...but he looked forward to the lifetime they now possessed to figure it out.

**_I’m standing on the edge of me...I’m standing on the edge of everything I’ve never been before.  And I’ve been standing on the edge of me, standing on the edge...and I’m on fire when you’re near me, I’m on fire when you speak.  I’m on fire burning at these mysteries._ **


	11. Bare Your Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern!AU, set before Migraine

“I’m telling you, Tybalt looked ready to slash my tires.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so pissed before.”

“Yeah, well, you  _ did _ turn him in for smoking pot in the library, ‘Cutio,” Romeo pointed out from his spot on the floor.  Benvolio chuckled at them, particularly when Mercutio threw a pillow at him from the couch and hit Juliet in the face rather than her boyfriend, who was sprawled out using her stomach as a pillow.  

“I am all for enjoying a joint, don’t get me wrong...but not within the walls of our proud university!” 

Livia snorted derisively, and Juliet rolled her eyes at him.  “Oh please, how many times have you lit up in the student center or one of the labs?  You just wanted to get my cousin in trouble and you know it! He almost got kicked out for that.”

“Oh please, like that would  _ actually  _ get one of the golden boy  _ Capulets _ expelled.  It’s not like your family owns an entire science building or anything,” Romeo pointed out.

None of the Capulet women could argue, which brought a grin to Ben’s face.  The gang had taken over their apartment, almost everyone spread out in the living room studying or working on mid-term assignments.  Even Paris had joined them, helping to test Livia on her anatomy knowledge. The only one not with them was Rosaline; she was busy making more snacks in the kitchen, having already finished her exams for the week.

As if his thoughts had conjured her, the eldest Capulet returned carrying a tray of nachos and bowl of chips and dip.  She paused at the doorway, watching them bicker with a fondly exasperated grin on her face.  Before she could turn her gaze to him, Benvolio returned his focus to the project on his lap.  

“Are you guys seriously still on about Tybalt? I’m pretty sure you all have more important things to do than gloat about fanning the flames of this  _ stupid  _ feud.”

“Sorry, Ros, but  _ nothing _ is more important than getting a leg up on the likes of a Capulet,” Mercutio teased, winking at her as her sister and cousin scoffed at him.  Ben turned his eyes back to Rosaline, and raised a brow at her when he saw that she was staring at him with pleading in her gaze.  She gestured towards the others, and he smirked.

“Okay,  _ children _ , time to get back to school work,” he commanded playfully, met with a choir of  _ “oh, come  _ on _ , Ben,”  _ and  _ “children,  _ really _ Benvolio?” _  With a glare sent to each of his friends, they finally complied with muttered complaints.  When Benvolio glanced back to Rosaline with a smug grin, she rolled her eyes but nodded to him in thanks. 

“ _ Mom _ , since we’ve been forced to study...could you bring me a drink?” Romeo requested innocently. Benvolio bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing aloud, imagining murder in her eyes.  The woman in question released a slow breath, and he finally gave in to his curiosity.  By the time he turned around, Rosaline was on her way back out of the room.  

Ben jumped up to follow her, a little voice in the back of his mind nagging him to make sure she wasn’t upset.   _ Romeo just reminded me that I’m thirsty, that’s all _ , he insisted to himself. He didn’t realize until he’d reached the kitchen that he still had his portfolio in his hand.  

“Kids need something else?” Rosaline questioned, drawing Benvolio’s attention.  The amused smirk on her face silenced the little voice in his mind, and he pushed down a swell of annoyance at his apparent unconscious concern for her wellbeing.  

“No, I need a drink of my own.  I’ll grab Romeo’s too.”

“Thanks,” she murmured.  Her eyes fell to the pad in his hand.  “What’s the project that you’re working on?” 

Ben considered showing her his work; Mercutio and Romeo were the only ones he’d shown willingly...and the only  _ other _ person to see his work had stolen and destroyed an entire book of deeply personal sketches.  Rosaline, though...something made him  _ want _ to show her all of it.  Not just his Architecture final project.  She’d recognized the dark side of his relationship with his uncle, and even more than that, she  _ understood _ in a way no one else in his life could.  In the months since that day, their relationship had seemed to evolve...where there had been a superficial distance between them, both seemed to have leaned into the support of the other anytime something went wrong at home.

“Ben?” Her voice drew him out of his thoughts, and he took a deep breath.  

“It’s...uh, it’s just my architecture project.”  He offered the portfolio to her, unable to meet her eyes.  Rosaline gently took it from his hands, and opened it slowly.  As he waited for her response, Ben kicked himself for being so nervous.  He  _ knew _ his work was good...there wasn’t really anything in his life that he’d poured more of his soul into than his artistic skill.  It was having her  _ see _ those pieces of his soul that had him itching to snatch the book back and run.

“This is stunning, Benvolio.  You’re going to be an incredible architect.”  Despite his self-confidence, her earnest compliment left him blushing furiously.   _ Just rip of the Band-Aid, Ben...just do it. _

“Thank you, Rosaline.”  Her name felt smooth in his mouth, and he had to quell the desire to say it again,  _ just because _ .  “So there’s some other work of mine in there, if you...if you want to look through them.”  As much as he wanted her to like his artwork, the insecure part of him hoped that she would either decline, or skim through them and gloss over the depth of meaning in each piece.  

Finally, his gaze turned to her face, and he knew there was no way she didn’t understand what he was offering.  Rosaline glanced between his face and his portfolio, as if she was searching for any doubt...and suddenly his reservations dissipated.  With a confident smile, Ben nodded, and watched as she began to leaf carefully...slowly...through the pages.  Emotions played across her features, and when she finally looked up from the last sketch, it was with an understanding and kindness he’d never seen directed at  _ him _ , even when she confronted him about his uncle.

“I know what it means for you to share this with me, Ben.  Thank you for that trust.”  Ros gave it back.  “I’d love to hear the stories behind some of these pieces sometime, if you’re comfortable.”  Just as Ben opened his mouth to respond, her phone rang, drawing her attention.  Distress flickered across her face for an instant.

“Your aunt,” he murmured.  She nodded, closing her eyes for a moment to steel herself to answer.  The muscles in her shoulders, back, and arms coiled, and he noticed a minor tremor as she swiped across the screen.  Ben ducked his head to catch her attention, and gestured behind them to let her know where to find him if she needed him.  Rosaline gave him a weak smile and mouthed her thanks before returning her focus to the phone.

Ben was mildly surprised to see that the others had actually returned to studying when he made it back to the living room.  Juliet glanced up when his shadow crossed her face, and immediately started looking for Rosaline.  “Phone call,” he explained as he handed Romeo a soda.  

“I mean, I was looking for something a little stronger than this...” his cousin teased.

“Uh, no.  If there’s anyone who needs to get some major studying done today, it is  _ you _ , dude.”  As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he had to resist the urge to cringe.  Mercutio snorted behind him, and Benvolio flipped him off behind his back.

“Damn, you guys are taking the whole ‘mom and dad friend’ thing a little too seriously.”  Heat rose in his cheeks, and the elder Montague knew that he couldn’t deny Romeo’s claim.  He really didn’t have any desire to deny it...he spent his life looking after his cousin and his best friend...did anyone expect that to change now that they were adults?  If anything, their shenanigans in college had brought out his protective nature even more than when they were kids.   _ Someone _ had to make sure those goofballs didn’t throw away their futures for the sake of fun and love.

“Someone’s gotta be the responsible one and keep you all in check.” 

The group settled back into their work, including Ben who put the finishing touches on his own project.  Once he finished he glanced up at the clock, and realized Rosaline had been gone for forty-five minutes.  He glanced back towards the door and then looked to Juliet.  “Ros?”

“She texted me a few minutes ago...she’s not feeling well.”

Ben nodded, smothering a frustrated sigh.  Discreetly, he drew his phone out and tapped out a quick message.   _ Migraine? _

_ Yeah, sorry to just bail. _

_ You’re not the one who should be apologizing.  Need anything? _

_ Nothing really helps at this point.  Just gotta sleep it off. Thanks Montague _

_ Sleep well, Capulet.   _

Ben dropped his phone against his chest and cursed the fact that no one else, according to Rosaline, knew that her migraines were because of her miserable aunt.  He got it, though...he knew all too well the desire to keep such a painful secret from loved ones.  Even still, he was itching to go and have a word or two with  _ Lady Capulet _ .  The last person to deserve her abuse was Rosaline.  

Curious, he lifted his phone again, and pulled up his search engine.  After a few moments Ben smiled; he might not be able to help his friend against her aunt, but maybe he could help her find some relief from the aftermath.


	12. Just A Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate take on the scene where they are getting ready to leave and are interrupted by the guards. Inspired by a Tumblr post exploring what might've happened if they had in fact stuck around a little bit longer.

“You sure you don’t want to stay here a bit longer?”

Rather than responding immediately, Rosaline hesitated; it’s only just dark, after all, and they shouldn’t take any unnecessary risks.  She wouldn’t be the reason that Benvolio was caught and put to death if she could help it. “Maybe just a bit...to be sure.”

Benvolio nodded and finished securing his Silvius’ saddle.  “I know you are eager to get back to Livia and ensure her safety...we won’t wait but a few moments.  You have my word.”  He watched as she finished with her own saddle, and then they sat beside the stable door, backs resting against the wall and shoulders pressed together.  Rosaline didn’t shy away from his touch, and the Montague found himself growing anxious.  He cursed himself for allowing this woman to work her way under his skin...after keeping her at arm’s length for so long, now that he would either be executed or forced to leave Verona forever in a matter of hours... _ now _ he found himself aching to have  _ more time _ .  

“There has to be some way that we can clear your name,” Rosaline murmured, as if her thoughts had matched his own.  “As I said I will  _ not _ allow them to kill you.”

His responding smile was weak at best, and tears filled her eyes when he met her gaze.  “Sweet Rosaline…” She felt a tear slide down her cheek at the sound of her given name.  How many times since first calling her  _ Rosaline  _ had he reverted back to calling her  _ Capulet _ in an attempt to shield himself, in the midst of his panic and frustration?  To have him speak to her with such emotion, such tenderness, once more...this time out of  _ regret  _ and  _ resignation _ ...was almost too much for her to bear.  “The Prince would not hear your witness  _ before _ we fled.  Now that, as far as he knows, you have either been kidnapped or chosen to flee with a murderer, he will be even less inclined to trust that I have not manipulated you in some way.  Even if, by the grace of God, you  _ are _ able to prove my innocence, it shall not be safe for me until their ire has passed.”

“Where will you go?”

The grief in her voice shattered his heart, and he reached forward to brush a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.  “I do not know,” he replied honestly.  “It may be safer that way, for I fear he would try to force you to tell him if he believed that you knew.”

“Then all of this will have been for  _ nothing, _ ” Rosaline hissed, hands clenching into fists with her abrupt anger.

“ _ No _ !  Because of you, we were able to learn the truth about your Aunt and your sister.  You will be able to save her from whatever they are planning, and perhaps free Verona from their reign of terror.  That will be enough for me.”

“Well it will not be enough for me! Your life will still be forfeit...for  _ what? _ You asked for none of this, Benvolio...and yet you are the one left to pay the price.”  Those same words that she spat at him, in her family’s house on that fateful last day in their city, echoed in his mind, and he gave her a wry smile.  

A sense of peace he’d never before experienced settled over the young man, and he turned to face her directly.  Rosaline stared at him with wide eyes as he took her hands and leaned towards her.  “You have shown me what it means to be  _ chosen _ , Rosaline.  In spite of our history, in spite of your reservations and everything that could happen, you chose to come with me.  You chose to  _ fight _ for me...and words will never rightly convey the depth of my gratitude.  What you have given me will far outweigh anything that can be taken... _ that _ is what this was for me.”  

While he still had the courage, Benvolio cupped Rosaline’s face tenderly and kissed her.  He felt her gasp against his lips, but she was quick to relax into him.  Trembling fingers covered his own, and the salt of her tears caught on his tongue as he willed himself to memorize her taste, her scent, her  _ presence _ invading his awareness.  Before he lost himself Benvolio pulled back, and struggled to steady his racing heart and shuddering breaths.  

“Benvolio…” His name was like a prayer on her lips, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again.  He opened his mouth to whisper into the minimal space between them, but was yanked back into reality when stern voices drifted down to the stable from the main farmhouse.   _ Royal Guards. _

“We’ll never make it…” he cursed himself for indulging in his own selfish desires and fears, for giving them time to catch up, and for putting Rosaline in harm’s way once more.  

“Don’t  _ say  _ that!” 

Before he could process what happened, Rosaline whispered a plan, pressed a desperate kiss of her own to his lips, breathed  _ ‘Goodbye, Benvolio...may we meet again some day,’  _ and disappeared through the door.  His skin crawled to follow her, but he knew he would do far more harm than good by revealing her lie as the guards helped her onto a horse and promised to take her to the Prince.

Even so, Benvolio could not shake the unease in his chest, and he immediately decided to follow the caravan of guards at a distance, until he knew for sure that they meant her no harm.


	13. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benvolio's POV of the brief - but utterly heartbreaking - time we spent with him in 1x06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang if this episode didn't wreck me. I would've been more okay with it if there was another season to go...but no. They wasted 40 minutes on stuff that won't matter. and then the Rosvolio stuff? I can't.

“We lost his trail at the river bed.  Go tell Count Paris, he won’t be happy.”  Benvolio ducked lower behind the outcropping that shielded him from the view of the guards.   _ Paris’s guards _ .  The knowledge left his blood cold...Rosaline was not safe on her way to the Prince...she was at the mercy of the man trying to destroy their city.  Who knew what he would do to her...he could easily accuse the already-accused-murderer of harming her before the esteemed Count Paris rode in to save the day.

With a steadying breath, Benvolio crept up far enough to watch the guards head off.  Once he knew they were far enough that he could follow without being heard, he did so, keeping low to the ground and light of foot.   _ Deadly responsibility indeed.  _  As he followed them Benvolio had to fight to quell his worry.  They had a considerable advantage, both in time and in force.   _ Please, Lord...protect Rosaline, do not allow her to suffer on my behalf. Keep her safe from that monster. _

Any trace of confidence the young Montague had in his ability to rescue Rosaline dissipated when the guards led him back to their camp.  He hung back, taking in the sight before him: broad tents sprawled across the countryside, dozens of men milling about between them.  Only the knowledge that  _ Rosaline was in one of those tents  _ compelled him forward, eyes tracing the paths of the guards until the one that had been delivering orders veered away from the others leaving the paddock and made his way into one of the larger tents. 

He needed a distraction to draw Paris away from Rosaline.  A horse whinnied from the paddock, drawing his attention to the single guard standing watch over half a dozen steeds.  Silently Benvolio crept up behind the man and wrapped his hand over the man’s mouth and nose, free arm wrapping around his shoulders and holding him firm as he fought to free himself.   Gradually his resistance waned, and Benvolio lowered him gently to the ground while keeping his eyes on the rest of the camp to ensure he wasn’t seen.  From there, it took only opening the gate and swatting the nearest horse on his flank to incite panic in all of the animals, and Benvolio grinned triumphantly as they all took off into the night.  As they fled and guards began to panic, Benvolio ducked behind a tent near the one he knew to belong to Paris to wait for his opportunity.

“My lord!” Another guard rushed to Paris.

“What is it?” The sound of the man’s voice made his skin crawl, and his hand curled over the hilt of his blade.

“The horses have gotten free!” 

“Tie up the Capulet.”  It took everything in Benvolio to restrain himself from attacking Paris then and there; the malice in the man’s tone as he referred to Rosaline sent a chill down his spine.  He  _ had  _ to get her out of there.  He could hear Rosaline’s indignant protests as she was bound, and took a modicum of comfort in the fact that she sounded well enough -  _ furious _ , certainly, but alert and without apparent sign of pain.  

He drew his dagger and waited until the guards left the tent before carefully making his way towards her...but froze when the sharp steel of a blade pressed against the base of his neck through his doublet. “Stop right there.”  The voice of his Sovereign had Benvolio instinctively straightening, a dizzying blend of fear and relief warring in his chest.  

As he turned, Escalus’s blade dragged along the leather before hovering over his throat.  “Your Grace.”  The point pressed into the hollow of his throat, and fear began to overtake his relief.  He just needed to convince the Prince of the danger to Rosaline...nothing else would truly matter, so long as she were safe.

“Benvolio Montague.”  The disgust in Escalus’s voice spoke all too clearly of what he believed, and some more of Benvolio’s hope drained away.  “Drop the dagger.”

The Montague complied immediately, hands out to show his surrender and movements slow to show that he was no threat.  “I am innocent of everything I’ve been accused of, Your Grace.”

“As if your word means  _ anything! _ What have you done with Lady Rosaline?”

“Nothing,” Benvolio vowed.  “Paris has her!”

“Indeed I do.  She’s safe and resting comfortably, Your Grace.” Paris was calm and confident as he joined them, the lie rolling off of his tongue like honey. Fury burned in Benvolio’s veins.

“Thank you, Count Paris.”

“He’s lying,” Benvolio hissed, eyes pleading with the Prince to see through the mask of innocence.  “She’s  _ not _ safe,  _ he’s _ the one you’re looking for!” 

“Desperate words from a desperate man.”  True enough statement, but not in the way that Paris meant them.  “Take him away.”

As hands grabbed his arms to haul him away, Benvolio made a final attempt to reach the Prince...to save Rosaline.  “No...no, my Prince, hear me out!” His words fell on deaf ears, though, and he knew any attempt to free himself would only mean trouble for him, and would do no good for Rosaline.  Even still, the guards did not hesitate to rough him up, delivering kicks to his ribs and, once he’d been gagged, a particularly vicious blow to the face that split his lip and left blood dripping down his chin and neck.  

Before long, he was brought into a small clearing in front of Paris’s tent.  Escalus was there, arms crossed over his chest and eyes cold with hatred.  Benvolio dropped his chin, resigned to the fact that he would likely not live to see the sun...and he’d failed  _ once again _ to protect someone he cared for.  A sharp kick to the back of his knee drove Benvolio to the ground with a pained grunt, and heavy hands settled onto his shoulders.

When he saw Rosaline guided out of the tent with Paris’s hand on her arm, his fear was momentarily drowned out by the desire to remove the monster’s hand, by whatever means necessary.  Nevermind that he didn’t have a weapon any longer.  It wasn’t until the hands keeping him in place tightened painfully that he realized he’d instinctively started struggling.

“Lady Rosaline! Are you alright?” The Prince’s concern was genuine, and the only consolation Benvolio had left.  If there were anything to be done to protect her, he believed that Escalus would see it done.  _ If he were not assassinated by Paris and the Lady Capulet first _ , Benvolio amended grimly.

“I am, Your Grace.” Rosaline’s eyes flickered to him briefly, something looking strangely like guilt in their depths.

“This animal didn’t hurt you?” 

Rosaline looked to Benvolio again, and for a moment hope bloomed...until that guilt became clear once more, and dread settled over him like a heavy, dark cloak. This would be the opportunity for her to uphold her promise to vindicate him...so why did she look at him with such grief? “He did not.” 

“Thank God. What happened, where did he take you?” 

“He...took me from my room, at House Capulet.”  _ No...oh Rosaline, no...what has happened? _  “We...headed toward Padua, and from there, I know not.” 

“Until she escaped, my men and I found her,” Paris supplied immediately.  Benvolio hardly registered his words through the blood pounding in his ears.  He knew not why she’d betrayed him, after taking so many risks to  _ protect _ him, but even in his growing grief, a voice that sounded painfully like his cousin’s whispered that she would not do so unless forced.

“A miracle.” 

Paris turned abruptly and kicked Benvolio in the chest.  He attempted to curl in on himself, whether to shield himself from further assault or to ease the pain, he couldn’t be sure, but the guards held firm and kept him upright.  All he knew for a moment was  _ agony _ and the desperate need for air “He calls himself the  _ New Prince of Verona. _ ”  _ Bastard _ .

“Is this true? Is it?” 

Tears blurred Benvolio’s vision despite his best efforts as he watched Rosaline look everywhere but at  _ him _ .  Her skittish behavior confirmed his belief that she’d been manipulated by Paris, but the betrayal stung nonetheless...somehow far worse than even Stella’s.  When Rosaline finally glanced at him, his eyelids fluttered and a soft sigh of resignation escaped him. “Yes.”  

With that single tremulous word, his fate had been sealed.  Benvolio Montague was, once more, truly and utterly  _ alone _ , and would be put to death as such.


	14. An Innocent Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events following their return to Verona (1x07 speculation)

“The traitor, Your Grace.”  Benvolio, with his hands bound before him and guards gripping his shoulders tightly, was shoved unceremoniously to his knees before Escalus.  The prince in question gazed down at him for a moment before waving the guards off.

“The dog cannot harm me now, give me a moment with him.”  Benvolio closed his eyes for a moment as the men followed their prince’s command, and wondered if he might be cut down where he knelt.  “Murderer, kidnapper, traitor...you have been a busy man, Benvolio Montague.  Get up.”  

Benvolio obeyed, fighting to smother a wince as his bruised ribs protested the movement.  The look of disgust in Escalus’s eyes let him know that he’d been unsuccessful, and Benvolio wished that he could get through to the logical, sensible side he knew drove the Prince in most matters.   _ Most matters that did not involve Rosaline _ .  “Please, Your Grace...I swear to you that I am innocent.  I did not kill Gramio Capulet, and I have no intent to take your throne.”

“And yet the one who defended your innocence in Gramio’s murder implicated you for her own kidnapping and your plot to unseat me just hours ago.” _Defended his innocence?_ _Rosaline?_

“I know not what happened to her while in Paris’s clutches, what he-”

“It is  _ you _ who ruined Lady Capulet, cur,” Escalus growled.

Benvolio’s lip curled in frustration. “No man could ruin her.  She is the wisest, bravest... _ best _ of ladies.  I would sooner cut off my hand than raise it to Rosaline.”

The prince barked a bitter laugh.  “How do you speak so of the woman you have destroyed, Montague? Is it possible that even as you stole her away, manipulated her for your own foul ends...she has won your heart?”

Benvolio’s eyes widened, both as the previously-unrecognized truth of his sovereign’s words dawned on the young Montague...and as memories resurfaced of a stolen embrace moments after Rosaline ran from the order to marry Benvolio. “As she has won yours, Your Grace?”

The Prince’s blow to his cheek is a shock, and sends Benvolio to the ground with ringing ears.  “Make your peace with God, Benvolio.  You die at dawn.”

Hands hauled the Montague off the ground, dragging him out of the Prince’s study as his feet scrabbled for purchase and he shook his head in an attempt to clear it as he was moved into the dungeons and tossed gracelessly into a cell. Once he was finally alone, Benvolio slid himself back to rest against the wall, and allowed his exhaustion to finally crash over him.  As he awaited the light of dawn, he prayed. 

_ God in heaven, I pray now in my darkest hour, deliver me.  Bring the truth to light.  Let me not die today.  And if it is Your will I should die upon these false accusations, I pray that You will watch over my family.  Save my house and my city from destruction.  And, Lord...watch over my Rosaline.  Protect her from this dark plot of Count Paris. _

* * *

With a quick glance around her, Rosaline snuck along a corner to bypass the guard manning the dungeon.  Desperation left her breathless as she searched the cells, ignoring the catcalls of the handful of other prisoners until she finally stumbled across the one she sought.  Benvolio sat against the wall at the back of his cell, forearms braced against his knees and head bowed...in prayer, she realized, as his lips moved subtly.  Tears burned in her eyes, and she ached to return to the time they shared in the inn...when she was able to get caught up in the simple excitement of seeing a man... _ this man _ ...bare before her.  When they allowed themselves to be  _ friends _ , to tease and flirt with one another.  When they could  _ trust _ one another.  She sent up a prayer that they would reach that place once more, after they survived this.

Rosaline settled her hand against the bars, and Benvolio looked up.  Blank eyes stared at her, and she realized she would have preferred even the fiery anger of their early interactions.  Benvolio Montague was never meant to be so withdrawn...so cold.

“Do you mean to torment me, Capulet?”  Rosaline couldn’t conceal a wince at his detached tone.

“ _ No,  _ Benvolio,” she breathed desperately.  “I mean to beg your forgiveness...and vow that I will yet save you.”

At her words, the Montague gingerly pushed himself to his feet and came to the front of his cell.  His eyes remained emotionless as he spoke.  “It is nearly dawn.  If you’re going to save me, Capulet, I suggest you  _ hurry _ .”  Words of a man without hope...a man who had accepted his looming fate.

Rosaline looked away from him and took a shaky breath.  This was  _ all wrong _ ...how had they come to such ruin?  How would she be able to live with the fact that she played a part, albeit against her will, in shattering the spirit of a man as loyal and kind as Benvolio Montague? When she turned back to face him, the flicker of torchlight brought her attention to a dark shadow on his face...one that hadn’t been present when she’d seen him last.  With a soft gasp, and without thought, she reached through the bars separating them.  Benvolio flinched away from her, and Rosaline felt as though she’d been struck.  Understanding dawned as he refused to look at her.  “Escalus did this.”  The muscle in Benvolio’s jaw twitched and he nodded shortly.  Finally he looked back to her, and his eyes followed a single tear as it slid down her cheek, and sorrow shone in their stormy depths.  “Forgive me, Benvolio...I knew not how else to keep Paris from killing  _ all  _ of us in that camp...and yet I have still condemned  _ you. _ ”  This time when she reached for him, Benvolio did not move away.  If anything, as her palm settled over his cheek, he leaned into her touch with a light sigh.  She prayed fervently that this would not be the last time he felt comfort at the hand of another.  “It is not over...I  _ will _ fix this.”  Squaring her shoulders, Rosaline turned and made her way back to the door.

“Rosaline,” Benvolio called, voice low and hoarse.  She faltered and glanced over her shoulder.  “In the event that the Prince does not hear reason...this is  _ not _ your fault.  Do not carry my death on your shoulders.  Consider it...the last request from your once-betrothed.”

Determination and defiance filled her at the resigned acceptance in his voice, and a ghost of his usual arrogant smirk just barely tugged at his lips as she strode back to him.  His tunic was soft in her fist and he offered no resistance when she tugged him close enough to press her lips to his through the grate of his cell.  Surprised though he might have been, Benvolio wasted no time in his response, curling his fingers over her hand to hold it against his chest and moving his lips desperately against hers.

“You are a good man, Benvolio Montague.  You have much left to do...this is  _ not _ where your story will end.”   _ This is not where  _ our _ story will end. _

* * *

“I was wrong to force you to marry a man from the very family that cost you your father...now that the betrothal is off, I am free to do what I should have done all along.”  Rosaline stared at him, shocked, when the prince dropped to one knee.  “Lady Rosaline, will you be my wife and bring our city to greatness once more?”  

She floundered for words for a moment, shocked.  This was most certainly  _ not _ what she was prepared to discuss when she demanded the dungeon guard - shocked and furious that she’d gotten past him in the first place - take her to Escalus.  When she finally found her voice, she could not feel embarrassed by her indignant tone.  “How am I to even consider romance and marriage, when an innocent man sits waiting for his execution?”

“ _ Innocent man? _ ” Escalus stood, eyes narrowed.

“I was not  _ kidnapped _ , Your Grace.  I went with Benvolio willingly, to help prove his innocence in the murder of my cousin.”  

“But you-”

Glancing around to ensure they were alone, she shook her head. “Paris threatened to kill all of us if I did not implicate Benvolio.  _ He _ is the one calling himself the New Prince of Verona... _ he _ is the one seeking to usurp your throne.  Rather than executing Benvolio, you need to prepare your army against our true enemy!”

“Rosaline, this is  _ madness _ , do you even hear yourself?  Benvolio ran after murdering Gramio-”

“Benvolio Montague is  _ no _ murderer,” Rosaline insisted firmly.

“His death is what this city needs to heal.” 

“The city needs the execution of an  _ innocent man _ to heal from generations of bloodshed?”  Tears of frustration threatened to spill over her lashes.

“You have spent much time under his manipulation.  When did you last find rest, dear Rosaline? Perhaps some sleep will help you to see clearly.”  

His placating tone left Rosaline wishing to scream.  She knew he was doing what he thought was best...for her, for himself, for  _ Verona _ ...but she knew not how to make him see that he’d been fooled by his cousin.  Rosaline narrowed her eyes.  “I will not rest until Benvolio is a free man.  You claim to love me...and yet you do not trust my insistence, instead only hearing the answers I gave  _ under threat of death _ .  Paris is the villain that has been terrorizing our streets...Lady Capulet has been working alongside him.   _ Please _ , Escalus...I swear to you that all I have said here is true.  For  _ all  _ of our sakes, you  _ must  _ believe me.”

Escalus took both of her hands in his own.  “I am truly sorry, milady.  One day you will see that my decision is for the best...for you  _ and _ for Verona.  Perhaps once you have been long enough removed from his influence you will understand.”

“No, Your Grace.  If you execute Benvolio...I shall never forgive you, and it will be  _ you _ who comes to understand the truth when Paris wages his assault.”  She feels the loss of her trust in him as vividly as the loss of his touch when she pulls her hands free.  If he would not stay Benvolio’s execution, all she had left was to turn in prayer to the only One left that could spare him.  Despite the Prince’s pleas for her to stop, Rosaline rushed out of the study to the sanctuary...the very same one where, not so long ago, Escalus first declared his love and then broke her heart.


End file.
